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NIAGARA, 

JEPHTHAH, 



REMARKS UPON 



THE DEFENCE OF WESSEX 



BY ALFRED THE GREAT 



WITH OTHER COMPOSITIONS. 



IN VERSE AND PROSE. 

But how the subject theme may gang, 
Let time and chance determine ; 

Perhaps it may turn out a sang. 
Perhaps turn out a sermon. 

Btjrns, 



PRINTED BY 
BREWSTER AND WEST, 

HAND-COURT, UPPER THAMES-STREET. 

1848. 






205449 
'13 



0>V 



//l^/y^ */&/?u4 is4Asi,/ , 



Ut/l£ 



Flattery is so disgusting to the really worthy and 
estimable, and so disgraceful to the writer who, by it's 
use, holds himself up to scorn and contempt ; that the 
Author best consults your character and his own, by 
simply requesting that you will honour him by accept- 
ing this little book. 



THE DEPRECATION. 



Vanity, the besetting sin of little minds, 
having prompted me to commit myself in print, 
I can only beg off from a good, sound chastise- 
ment, by pleading that the petty ambition of a 
school-boy having lured me into writing non- 
sense-verses, I have since beguiled the weary 
gaps of nothing-to-do in a laborious life, by 
allowing fancy to wander far away from splash- 
ing gutters and smoky chimnies, into regions 
which the bodily eye never saw. 

A lurking conceit, that it is just possible some 
of those kind persons, whose generous feeling 
has rounded off some of the asperities of my 
road, may be pleased to think me not alto- 
gether unworthy of remembrance, leads me to 



VI THE DEPRECATION, 

ask them to accept this book, and sometimes to 
recall to memory one who does not very rea- 
dily forget a kindness ; and it will highly gratify 
me, if but one can feel in it's perusal a tithe of 
the intense pleasure attendant upon it's compo» 
sition. 

I am sure that they will be merciful judges, 
and try me rather by my motives than by the 
accomplishment of my gratifying tasks : but as, 
by mischance, a stray copy may fall into the 
hands of some one who is critically disposed ; 
and as, when a criminal does run mad in print, 
he is justly held amenable to those whom he 
annoys, and is bound to render an account of 
his vagabond birth, parentage and education ; I 
do most penitently confess, that no out-of-London 
vicinage was polluted by my first breath ; but 
that I was honestly and regularly born within 
the sound of Bow-bells the wind setting hard 
from any point of the rainy quarter, as a good 
and true Citizen-and-Haberdasher is in duty 
bound to have been : and, miserable wretch that 
I am, I have since seen very little out of London, 
although I am quite certain that roses are red, 



THE DEPRECATION. VU 

lilies are orange-coloured, sweet-briar pricks one's 
fingers, streamlets are black, and sparrow-music 
is very exhilarating. 

I have however, as a set-off, seen much of 
London ; know Temple-bar extremely well, have 
a passing acquaintance with St. Paul's, and with 
Bow-Church steeple, have now and then seen a 
Grass-hopper a-top of Change, but have never 
been upon drinking terms with Aldgate-pump. 
The civic watering place, Billingsgate dock, is 
fresh in my recollection, and the Pageants at Red- 
riff, One-tree hill at Greenwich, and the White- 
bait of Blackwall are deeply treasured in my 
memory. I once found that I had lost myself 
at Ball's Pond, when upon a tour of discovery 
for a green field, which I did not find ; and, 
returning from a business trip to Auld Reekie, 
and getting out of sight of land, was astounded 
by the sublimely magnificent sensation, that it 
was very much like being stuck in the middle of 
a big punch-bowl. 

By parentage, upon the one side at least, I am 
a Cockney of the very purest water, traceable 



Vlll THE DEPRECATION. 

downward from the Great Plague, and how much 
further upward it would be plaguey hard to say ; 
and upon the other, there is a dash of Saxon or 
Norseman blood, I really cannot tell which. 

By long residence, I am also a most unmixed, 
and unsophisticated Cockney, located hard by 
the Classic region of Grub-street, and not very 
far away from the last resting place of that noto- 
riously London-born-criminal John Milton. 

As to my education, I learnt great A and boun- 
cing B from a horn-book ; and am quite sure that 
Grammar is a most rascally, ill-looking little thing 
with a sticky yellow-bunting cover, well thumbed, 
and dirtily dog's-eared at each corner. 

I do then most contritely plead that I am a 
genuine, uncontaminated Londoner, and there- 
fore no more answerable for erroneous ideas, than 
was my lovely and kind-hearted compatriot, who 
saved the chicken-bones for her brother's horse, 
or the nice, dear little fellows who pitch nuts at 
the lions to fatten them. 

I have read, somewhere, that there is a " Cock- 



THE DEPRECATION. IX 

ney-School" of Song-smiths, as our worthy 
Northern ancestry used, in their sauciness, to call 
them, — I know not what is the condemnatory 
characteristic of that School ; I know only that 
Jemmy Wright's Caron-house, was a deuced 
flogging one after he had been drunk ; but I am 
still perfectly assured that it must be something 
extremely wicked, superlatively contemptible 
and most deservedly sneer-at-able ; and that, 
whatever else it be, I must be the minutest 
member of it's most diminutive form ; for, there 
I stand, uncomfortable urchin, jammed into the 
corner, upon a high stool, with a fool's-cap on, 
whimpering with a little thumb in my eye, and 
an ugly, old A.B.C.-woman poking a big long 
cane at me. 

Whatever be the villany of that Cockney 
school, I cannot get away from the questionable 
honour of my association, and must wear the 
glitter of such delinquency as blushingly as I can. 

Having thus fairly discharged my conscience, 
and done reparation to my deeply-insulted, in- 
jured and offended Country, I have only further 



X THE DEPRECATION. 

to plead, in mitigation, that, having always been 
a wayward, unmanageable chap ; having been, of 
old, accustomed to do as I pleased, when I could 
get my own way, to lay down my own laws, and 
to break them when they pinched ; I have, in 
some instances, adopted a form of composition, 
which, even judged by the rules of some civilized 
writers, admits of a little occasional kicking over 
the traces, as but at worst, a venial and youthful 
sally. 

If however, The Schoolmaster, should find 
any outbreak beyond all justificatory precedent; 
and if, he should discover that, in some violent 
plunge, Priscian's head has also been broken ; I 
must, right humbly, request him to take up his 
pen and mend it : but I would also most be- 
seechingly implore him, to try whether curtail- 
ment or elongation to his bed of Procrustes, 
might not mar more than it would mend. 

I have a sort of eccentric notion that the true 
test of a Rhythmical line, is not a rigorously exact 
number of syllables, but the quantity and expres- 
siveness of sound : — that a syllable consisting even 



THE DEPRECATION. XI 

but of one letter, may, by it's accentuation, be 
fully equal to two of ordinary force ; — and, that 
a word, it may be of even five syllables, may, in 
common pronunciation, be really reduced to the 
bare quantity of another word of but two sylla- 
bles : and if I err not in my recollection, instances 
might readily be adduced to shew that, in some 
of our best writers, not only are there lines which 
overrun, or do not reach, the syllabic measure ; 
but that, in very many instances, the euphony of 
a line has not only been destroyed, but Priscian's 
head most unmercifully mashed into mummy, by 
a too strict attention to the due syllabic measure. 

I leave that question however for the digestion 
of better stomachs than my own. I have taken 
my own course, and must stand or fall by my 
own unruly devices. 

I have a slight, an evanescent hope, that, al- 
though my readers may neither derive instruction 
nor amusement from, they will neither be in- 
jured in head nor heart by anything which I have 
herein submitted to them ; and, it will indeed be 
to me a great pleasure should I hear, that if I 



Xll THE DEPRECATION. 

shall not have done good, I have at least not in- 
flicted harm. 

In completion of this deprecation of chastise- 
ment, I take leave to run wild again, and ear- 
nestly to say, with respect to my humble aspira- 
tion, 



Nay, check not my hope, though it smile to deceive, 
I mistrust, and I fear, yet still fondly believe, 
Yet cherish I still the delight it has given, 
"Though a dream it may be, 'tis a dream of heaven. 

Nay, crush not my hope, though a bubble it be, 
It's beautiful colours are rainbows to me ; 
'Though it burst, I will dwell on the bliss it has given, 
Remembering the dream, as a dream of heaven. 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 

1. NIAGARA. 

11. THE GAZELLES. 

i 

12. THE SNIPE AND THE RUFFS. 

14. THE PLUME AND THE GEM. 

17. THE BALLOON AND THE MIST-BUBBLES. 

19. THE ANT AND THE BUTTERFLY. 

21. THE BEAVERS. 



CONTENTS. 

Page. 

23. THE DRAKE AND THE GAME-COCK. 

25. THE SCORPION AND HIS TORMENTORS. 

26. HODGE. 

29. THE EXILE. 

32. THE MISANTHROPE. 

35. THE BARDIE'S LAMENT. 

39. ON, ISRAEL ! 

41. PRAYER. 

43. CONTRITION. 

47. A HYMN. 

51. BIRTH. 

67. DEATH. 

87. RETRIBUTION. 

125. THE RENOVATION. 



CONTENTS. 

Page. 

1 30. WHERE IS GOD ? 

137. JEPHTHAH. 

271. THE CXXXVII. PSALM. 

274. THE MOUNTAIN AND THE PALM-TREE. 

277. COUSIN DINAH. 

299. THE DEFENCE OF WESSEX. 

369. CHALFONT. 



NIAGARA 



What wild enthusiast, with adventurous hand, 

Rashly shall dare to intonate the lyre ? 

What prophet spirit o'er thy fearful strand 

Shall breathe, in awful cadences of fire, 

Strains which angelic minstrels might inspire ; 

And from their embryo nothingness upraise, 

With magic hand, the intellectual choir; 

Pour in 'rapt sounds a kindred flood of praise, 

And draw down Heaven to hear the blest melodious 



What limpid wave reflect thy rushing tide, 
What gleaming fancy thy vast might pourtray, 
Diffuse o'er space her sunshine tissue wide, 
Arrest the glories of thy floating spray, 
And bid thy fleeting colours live for aye ; 
And rein thy coursers in her mimic thrall, 
And bid thy eddying car her will obey ? 
Smiling in strength, thy ceaseless volumes fall, 
And with exulting laugh thou proudly scornest all. 



A NIAGARA, 

Thy white mist rises, as ascends to heaven 
Some holy altar's pure oblation fire ; 
Not as foul steams, whose fostid tresses riven, 
Unveil the vultures of war's funeral pyre, 
Where groaning fathers o'er their sons expire ; 
And, wailing loud, of every hope despoiled, 
Lovers the blood-locks from their lovers tear ; 
And fierce-contending with the jackall wild, 
The maddening mother shrieks, and faints upon her 
child : 

But as the clear light of beneficence, 

Radiant of peace and redolent of joy ; 

Effacing tears and blushes of offence, 

And bidding grovelling sadness soar on high, 

On rapturous wings of silent ecstasy : 

But as that holy dew of holiest earth, 

Ere man had stained her with his infamy, 

Which, mingling with the angel's sacred mirth, 

Returned imbued with praise, and sanctified her birth. 

Still, as I breathless, fixed in rigid trance, 

And fascinating terror stand at gaze ; 

Volumed on volumed rapids swiftly glance 

And die, as time's vast myriads of days 

Blend into undistinguishable haze ; 

Save that lone fragments of the world gone by, 

Scrolled o'er with crime and bloodshed, yet amaze 

The seekers of man's direful history, 

Summed up in rending curse and bitterest agony. 



NTAGARA. 



So falls tliy floods so swiftly plunges down 
Some gallant vessel caught within thy whirl, 
By one rude crash in countless fragments thrown ; 
Thy melting eddies o'er the shivers curl, 
And far and wide the stranded cordage hurl, 
Speaking thy wild tremendous energy ; 
As, amid thy kindred deluge, when from the swirl 
He-nascent mountains reared their pinnets high, 
And one wide-bosomed calm soft wooed the evening 
sky: 

Glittering, the ripple on the horizon, marked 
The whirlwind dipping his ferocious van ; 
Harshly around destruction's hell-hounds barked, 
Black yawningchasms through riven mountains ran, 
And one shrill shriek burst from ark-shielded man ; 
Onward, right onward, as the depths unclosed, 
Swept he the vast waste with capacious span, 
Hurling huge monsters into eternal snows, 
Where no exploring steps e'er break their fixed repose. 

Deep as I drink, with never-sated eye, 
Thy glorious beauty, stealing melancholy 
Palsies my senses ; yet the alluring tie 
Snaps not ; but, traversing in agony 
Athwart thy headlong current, vacantly 
Seeing, I see not, yet still gaze upon 
Thy alluring horrors, dim and gloomily ; 
As wreck -left on some bleak rock, barren, lone, 
Despairing seamen watch the tempest-tokening sun- 

b 2 



Vast world of waters, ever pouring down 

And ever still to pour ; vicissitude 

Of nature shakes thee not ; thou holdest on 

Thy stedfast course, and no similitude 

Hast ever found. Sublimest magnitude 

Has o'er thy ample bosom wide outspread 

His broad dominion ; rough rocks, rent and rude 

Grace, but mar not the honours of thy head, 

And wearying time on thee has no dishonour shed. 

So fearlessly, majestically great, 
Marches in meek, dove-eyed benignity, 
Unquailed by storm, unbowed by age's weight, 
Kindred in spirit, Christianity ; 
And still shall march in calm security; 
Close to her bosom, with unaltered niein, 
Though hurtling arrows fall incessantly, 
She presses holiest hope, and smiles serene, 
As terrors were but breath to wave her sun-locks 
sheen. 

The saffron eye of morn awakening, 

Looks from her waving couch of orient gold : 

Gaily the blithe bird's earliest twittering 

Bids fairest fiowers their faery cups unfold, 

And flaunting tendrils laughingly behold, 

Pearl-dropt and prankt with choicest jewellery, 

The brilliant leaflets pure from Nature's mould : 

Exult the meads, and pleasure's iris-eye 

Gleams with delight amid the enchanting minstrelsy. 



NIAGARA. 



And, bending in the light breeze, bough and stem, 
O'erhanging dark the steep-enshadowed tide ; 
Honoured in age's snowy diadem, 
Wave in consonancy their tresses wide, 
As the fierce dog-star, azure-canopied, 
Pouring effulgently his tempered rays, 
Sports dalliant on thy bosom : vivified, 
Rises in incense thy pellucid haze 
And sward, and sky, and flood, their blest Creator 
praise. 

And surges, leaping from thy mountain crest, 
Melt in the western red-glare, lovelily 
Dying in radiant sweetness. Pure her breast, 
And cold as pure, the Naiad bashfully 
"Wells out her snowy vases ; limpidly 
As beauty's tear drops, ever still they flow, 
And Dryad sisters, sighing piteously, 
View their own fate in each impulsive throe, 
And, fascinated, love, the sanctifying woe. 

Wide in thy opalescent billows float, 
Colours irradiant as the hues of heaven ; 
The iridescent glow, the glittering mote, 
The broad clear beam, by sunny mist-wreaths riven, 
And blending, as, imagination given, 
Blend poet-dreams and darkness. Follies flash 
O'er man as o'er thy current ; bright and even 
They allure him, or, impetuously rash, 
Hurl him, and all his hopes, into countless nothings 
dash. 



O NIAGARA. 

In thy receding crescent dim light dwells, 
While o'er thy wide convexity the sun 
Gleams gloriously. Elate thy bosom swells, 
And swifter plunge thy gladdening volumes down 
As glory urged and bade them hurry on. 
Like warriors burning for avenging fight, 
Flash the swift floods thy glittering edge upon, 
Glare the white surges more intensely bright, 
And the quenched eye, subdued, shrinks from the ex- 
cessive light. 

Or, amid thy roaring stillness, peal on peal, 

Reverberating thunders rudely crash; 

Heard, yet scarce heard, though on thy pinnacle 

The herald lightnings in continuous flash, 

Glance on thy heaving wave, or fiercely dash 

Into thine inmost womb ; and the waked ear 

Listens, and thinks it hears thy rival rash 

Groaning, as suffering spirits in despair 

Groan in the dark, the drear, the eternal sepulchre. 

Or, bursting from the death-trance, answering loud, 
As blessed hosts contending who shall sing 
Best their Creator ; emulous thy flood, 
And the air-angel awfully echoing 
In strenuous chorus. Dark o'er- hovering 
Black the dense clouds thy wide expanse o'erveil ; 
And all, save sound, in slumber deadening, 
The rapt ear dwells upon thy rushing gale, 
Though pausing Nature seem beneath the storm to 
quail. 



NIAGARA. 



Then, suddenly, the wild glare gleams around, 
Pouring its forked, ire-enkindled brand > 
As stains the streams, as desolates the ground, 
War's parching breath, thy poor, devoted land, 
Once noble Grgecia ; yet the scourge beneath 
Thou fashionest the weapons of command, 
And Heaven shall yield thee yet the conqueror wreath. 
And Mahmoud's blood-stained bones bleach on thy 
warrior heath. 

Thee, vast Niagara, no tyrant curbs, 

Though oft the tempest, burning in his might, 

Thy mild serenity awhile disturbs. 

And dares thee, placid conqueror, to the fight. 

Hurling aloft in maniac despite, 

Spoils torn from sultry, equinoctial plain, 

Hopes he, elate, thy Naiads to affright, 

To bind thy spirit in the enfeebling chain, 

And o'er thy smiling strand, firm fix his brutal reign, 

Once owned, fixed ever. Thou to fear or own 
Sublimely scornest. Let the wild hurricane 
Chafe thee and tear thee ! be thy rooted throne 
Tornado whitened ! let his vengeance rain 
As rained Gomorrah's fire ! in disdain, 
As Britain -viewed the threat-invading force, 
Thou, unsusceptible of age or pain, 
Unheeding glidest from thine eternal source, 
And still pursuest on, thy steady, fate-like course. 



Even Winter, stern and fearless, whose chill throne, 

In bleak, fantastic splendour overspreads 

The solitary poles, oft trenches on 

Thy neighbour forests, thy consanguined meads, 

Yet pauses at thy threshold. Freedom shone 

For ever there ! for ever shall the sun 

Greet the proud, northern child ; and as her eye 

Aurora-brightened flashes, every zone 

Shall hail the cherub ; shall, like thee, rely 

On Heaven, assert her right, and raise her head on high. 

Often thy pale blue mist, inspiriting 

Shoot lucent rays ; as Heaven's prophecy, 

Man's dead-blank future fate illumining, 

Peoples the dim haunt of obscurity ; 

And, as thy booming thunders echo by, 

Oft, clinging to some grey branch, whose frail leaves 

Shiver within thy wavelet ; eagerly 

Seek I thy depth, and as the billow heaves 

Blithe fancy, with the spray, her visions interweaves. 

And the soft moonbeams mitigate the scene 

Of horror : thy dark current dimpling 

With evanescent beauties, while between 

Each, intonating crash, light revelling 

In their own music, night birds twittering, 

Then bursting in one flood of melody, 

Spell the 'rapt soul, that on the heaven-ward wing 

Of ecstasy swift floating, soars on high, 

And hears angelic strains, angelic minstrelsy. 



Or, sinking into sadness, loves the light 

Upon thy elfin-tresses glittering ; 

Or marks, with happy, infantine delight, 

The broad orb, from her high sphere, brightening 

In thy pure, molten mirror, or chequering 

Thy sportive surges, from the dark abyss 

Leaping as fire-flies, gently wakening 

Earth's pearl-drops into transient brilliantness, 

Then shouting, plunge down deep, in jocund happiness. 

Oh, I have stood upon thy trembling verge 
As, on the edge of time's departing scroll 
Some holy spirit : on the deepening dirge, 
The solemn death-knell, wondrous visions roll 
Of angels beckoning the kindred soul : 
Islands of bliss, glad glory's golden gleam, 
Realms where pure spirits exercise controul, 
Altars and temples of the dread Supreme, 
Bathed in one brilliant, blest, clear, crime-unspotted 
beam. 

Yes, — oft I stand, in melancholy bliss, 
Shrunken in myself, and sinking into earth 
In deep abasement, o'er thy vast abyss, 
And daring not to ask, whence drew I birth, 
Or, what I am ; or how the shuddering earth 
Could bear such reptile wretches ; how the day- 
-Ephemerons can rush in anger forth, 
O'er the sand-grain a conqueror's march essay, 
And microscopic space, bind in disdainful sway? 



10 NIAGARA. 

Lords of a moment. — In thy awful view 

Who shall be great : who count his ancestry : 

Who dare the irrefluent current to pursue. 

Trace his continuous line, through regalry, 

Up to a source of blood, or villainy ? 

Oh, who shall, vauntingly, aloud proclaim 

His pomp, his circumstance of heraldry, 

O'er thee resound his ancestorial name, 

And, to thy stream outspread his muster-roll of fame ? 

Low, on thy margin, pride sinks self-abased, 

And pert conceit, and pampered vanity, 

Into their native nothingness debased, 

And conscious of their fond credulity, 

Sigh, blushing, at the sad reality ; 

And, in thy kingly presence, cowering, 

Thee-daunted, chrysomed in humility, 

Overcount, in lowliest tremor murmuring, 

And weep, as still they count each empty triumphing. 

Weak, worthless, vile, and despicable, all; 

As far beneath man's truest dignity 

As thou above the meanest springlet-fall 

In tinkling current glancing merrily. 

Thou, in thine own severe simplicity, 

Sublimely calm, appallingly serene, 

Glidest in lone, tremendous majesty : — 

Absorbed, mute wonder, with expressive mien 

Lost in abstraction stands, and meditates the sceue. 



1! 



THE GAZELLES. 



" Beware," said the old Gazelle, " beware, 
The hunter has spread his treacherous snare, 
The tiger has stretched his devouring fangs, 
Already I see thy expiring pangs." 

" Truce, mother, truce ; the sun is awake, 

His light decks the tresses of jungle and brake : 

Fear not, oh, fear not : I am agile and fleet, 

Tigers drink not my blood, hunters snare not my feet. 

No tiger appeared as she bounded with glee, 
Elate from constraint to be happily free : 
" Oh beauty," she cried, as she gazed in the stream, 
" It was jealousy croaked in my fond mother's dream. 

Curvetting, and tripping, and ambling, and leaping 
Now gazing at buds, now in wild blossoms peeping ; 
A beautiful, burnished, resplendently bright, 
Gem-chequered serpent attracted her sight. 

Lithely he twined, as she drew back amazed, 
Glided he gently, as curious she gazed : 
Glittered his scales, as irresolute she strayed, 
And glanced his keen eye, as her course was delayed. 



12 THE SNIPE AND THE RUFFS. 

She stopped, his heart danced, as her eye met his glance, 
He besought, and she stood fixed in tremulous trance, 
Advancing, inhaling his poisonous breath, 
Dizzy she grew, and then rushed on her death. 



THE SNIPE AND THE RUFFS. 



" A smoky house and scolding wife," 

The adage says, " are plagues for life :" 

But other plagues beset our houses, 

And other ills annoy our spouses, 

And prudent bodies look a little 

Beyond a frown, or a crocky kettle. 

A young snipe, from the streams affrighted, 

Is on a common, wild, benighted, 

And from the howling winds that pelt her 

Hither and thither runs for shelter. 

At length, beneath some beetling bluffs, 

Finds she a leash of spruce-dressed Ruffs, 

Long-beaked, long-legged, and smartly speckled, 

Black, white, and brown, and auburn, freckled. 



THE SNIPE AND THE RUFFS. 13 

Lack they not hospitality, 
But with extremest courtesy 
Request she will with them repose 
Until the rude tempest overblows. 
Much wonders she, for hope will spring- 
Even from beneath destruction's wing ; 
And, out of house, and out of home, 
Good fortune may have bidden her roam 
Hither, to meet at length a mate. 
Admires she much their air and gait, 
Admires she much the sanded floor 
With fairy- circlets traversed o'er; 
And, growing bold, as they caress her, 
Of nuptials talk, and gently press her, 
Gently as rival birds are able, 
To take the " upper end of the table •" 
She questions, " why, within a zone 
Each should possess a mimic throne, 
And raise the ruff and dart the beak 
If another the charmed line inbreak?" 
" Each keeps his portion." ' ' Thank you kindly, 
I enter not in engagements blindly ; 
If brothers thus can disagree 
It will be no house of peace for me ; 
Farewell," she cries, " the family 
Of Ruffs lack unanimity, 
And, poverty with peace, is better 
Than misery in a golden fetter." 



11 



THE PLUME AND THE GEM. 

Belinda, who knows not the fair ? 
Profuse her waving locks of hair, 
Profuse her gems, their dazzling light, 
Than her pure sparkling eyes less bright ; 
Less lovely red than either cheek 
Aurora's blushes when they break 
The autumnal curtains of the sun ; 
Less brilliant, his fierce race half run, 
Is Phoebus, than her lightning wit : 
But added charms are requisite 
Even to make Belinda fair. 
She therefore pinned within her hair 
A plume, oh, such a plume as never 
Before put ladies into a fever ! 
Gorgeous, and beauteous, and delightful, 
All other plumes, to thee were frightful ! 
Oh, as supremely blest, it dangled, 
And waved it's graceful head, and angled 
With linked fibrils, as it strove 
To catch motes in the beams of love ; 
Damsels of certain ages frowned, 
Pert damsellettes as fairly swooned ; 
Dandies, and beaux, and maccaronies, 
Grew rough and rude as Exmoor ponies, 



THE PLUMB AND THE GEM. 15 

Snorted and kicked, and stung with spite, 

Threatened themselves into a fright. 

He was a venturous he, whose stupid 

And misty eyelids never saw Cupid, 

With burnished shaft and tight-strained bow, 

Dodging beneath Belinda's brow, 

Watching with keen, consummate art 

To launch his arrow into the heart ; 

And glance, and cower, look coy, look sly, 

Then, in a moment, slap, let fly 

The thrilling barb. — Oh, stupid wretch ! 

Dare you of art or science preach 

Who never saw electricity 

Corruscate from a lady's eye ? 

Oh, stolid lecturer, how dare 

You scrutinize the blushing fair ? 

How dare you gaze : how dare you venture 

So near to love's attractive centre : 

How dare you, with a cringing grin, 

Crinkle the crow's feet, scar your thin 

Bachelor lips with smirking simper, 

And for that plume your wishes whimper ? 

Belinda, condescending creature, 

In loveliest smiles arrayed each feature ; 

Unclasping from its balmy seat 

A diamond gave she in emeralds set ; 

And, loosening from her auburn tresses 

With many kind, endeared caresses, 

Surrendered into his custody 

The Triumph of Plumasserie. — 



16 THE PLUME AND THE GEM. 

As opera-dancers, if they are talked with, 

By nobles, joked with, laughed with, walked with 

Feel strawberry leaves on their foreheads grow, 

And ape the aristocratic bow ; 

Peered with a jewel, Monsieur Plume, 

Waved, as he strutted round the room, 

Bestowing on all the Plumes in the crowd 

A gracious, patronizing nod. 

His heightened pride ascended higher, 

Glowed fiercer his ambition's fire, 

Xerxes, who in himself embodied 

Millions, felt not so over-godded 

As wondering damsels saw them fall 

Jewels and feather, equal all, 

When weighed in the subtilized air 

Of the lecturing philosopher. — 

The jewel smiled, nor felt degraded, 

Although by a feather overshadecl. 

But when, within an ample brim, 

She saw the gossamer trapping swim, 

Puffed, whirled, and driven by every gale 

Which beauty's roseate lips exhale ; 

And the jewel, scarcely less in weight, 

Or in air or water, beaming bright, 

More splendent, as if distress and woe 

Gave truest worth a truer glow : 

Belinda, sighing as she spake, 

Owned herself silly, blind, and weak : 

Conscious, 'though in the vacuum 

Of a suffocating; drawing room, 



THE BALLOON AND THE MIST-BUBBLES. 17 

Feathers may chance to " bear the bell ;" 
Yet, in the deep, sequestered dell 
Of social life, supremely blest, 
Secure the fond affections rest, 
Supporting and supported by 
Worth that despises rivalry. 



THE BALLOON AND THE MIST-BUBBLES. 

"Oh, la!" cried the girls, and "hurrah!" cried the 

boys, 
Until half merry England ran wild with their noise ; 
As a dapper balloon, with a man dangling down, 
Like a mouse in a tether, amazed London town. 

<e Behold me, behold me," cried out the balloon, 

As some mist-bubbles passed on their voyage towards 

the moon ; 
fl Behold how superbly, how nimbly I gallop 
Over billows of air, like my Lord Mayor's gilt shallop." 

" Aye, sail, sail away," laughed the merry-grig bubbles, 
" Like a young bear, you are but beginning your 
troubles ; 

c 



18 THE BALLOON AND THE MIST-BUBBLES. 

Should you burst/' — " Should I burst/' twisting round 

with a caper, 
" Should I burst, should I burst/' cried the bag-full of 

vapour : 

" And if I should burst ? Should ye burst, who would 

sorrow ? 
But my death would enrich all the papers to-morrow ; 
While, if ye broke, ten millions such bubbles of wet, 
Not a line e'er would furnish for Fashion's gazette." 

" Did we burst," cried the gigglers, " though unnoticed 

in rain, 
Our sportive lives would not have passed by in vain ; 
While yours, were your bright deeds all told over double, 
Would be nonsense, and ridicule, glitter, and trouble." 

Apply this to heroes, to statesmen, to kings, 
To lordlings, to ladylings, garters, or strings, 
Knights, squires, or peasants, you ever will find 
Air-balloons are of less use than rain to mankind. 



19 



THE ANT AND THE BUTTERFLY. 

" Good morrow to you, Mistress Ant, 
You must be sadly pinched by want, 

Ever thus to sweat and labour ; 
I have toiled my toil, and now full chase 
Of happiness, I run my race, 

Good morrow, drudging neighbour." 

" Ah well, farewell Miss Butterfly, 
The sun is up, the fields are dry, 

And I am right strong for labour : 
Mayhap when you have chased your chase, 
And that same happiness embrace, 

You will not neglect your neighbour. 

Time was, you know," — " Not I, not I," 
Frisked off the gaily-plumed Fly, 

The brisk Ant plied her labour : 
She sunned her eggs, her corn she nibbled, 
And in dried earth her dry stores dibbled, 

Then looked out for her neighbour. 

" Eh, sirs ! — and you have lost a wing ; 
Some wretch has had a wicked fling 
At your delicious labour ; 

c 2 



20 THE ANT AND THE BUTTERFLY. 

You have lost your legs in that same chase, 
You have lost your horns, and that bonny face 
Is dirty, sweetest neighbour : 

But you have tasted happiness " — 
" Less," cried the dying insect, " less 

Reproach me, prudent neighbour; 
You have drudged, and met with sweet content, 
I, wearied, wounded, and outspent, 

Glittered, but lost my labour ; 

" And now I die." — Aye, more is the pity, 
The young, the gay, the blithe, the witty, 

For happiness thus labour : 
Read they my rede, I trow they 'ill find 
Real happiness of toil designed 

To be the nearest neighbour. 

All others are but hey-day cousins, 
Acquaintances picked up by dozens, 

Straw in the sun that glisters : 
Sweet labour and content, scarcely ever 
Are known from each other's side to sever 

But live like friends and sisters. 



21 



THE BEAVERS. 



Haired the wind, the tempest gathered, 
Doun the snaw-storm fell, fu'-feathered 

From Walishmen's geese : 
In sooth it was an awfu' day, 
Sic as mote teugh-skinned flint-stanes flay 

An' misers fleece. 

Flew the leaves, the branches crackled, 
The bushes a' were frizzed an' hackled, 

An' tugged an' twisted : 
A beaver's hut fu' sair was beaten, 
Auld grannie crouched, an' mammie swaten 

Mair nor she listed. 

Chafed the flood, the torrent battered, 

The stakes were drawn, the dam was shattered, 

A leak began : 
It was nae time for sleep, they hastened, 
They plashed the breach, the pile they fastened, 

Then in o' doors ran. 

Lulled the wind, the rain saft pattered, 
Comfort their easy bosoms flattered, 
An' daddie entered : 



22 THE BEAVERS. 

Guid man, he grunted wi' delight, 
Sair for that hame had been his fright 

Where a' his joys centred. 

Whined he loud, his cubs were cheerie, 
An, frisked, an' leaped, an' unco' merrie, 

'Gan to be curious : 
" Why, mammie, did you plash an' plaster, 
Wattle, and drive the pile down faster 

'Spite o' auld Boreas?" 

Frowned she, but the storm was over, 
Dad shared her out a wisp o' clover 

An' greenest braunches ; 
Then, spreading out his fish-tail flat, 
Becht as a minister, upsate 

Upon his haunches. 

Preached he lang, the wee-anes listened, 
Wi' glee, auld luckie's black eyne glistened, 

An' glowered, an' gleamed : 
But o' his sang, the fu' gran' close 
Was, " wee-bit griefs will grow into woes 

Gin ye allow 'em. 

Bepress them young, the wark is easie, 
Grawn great, they winna say e sae please ye,' 

An' haud their breath ; 
Nay, bairns, young leak may become auld deluge, 
An' ye in vain seek out a refuge 

Frae wounds or death." 



THE DRAKE AND THE GAME-COCK. 23 

Prosie lie grew, an' I maun hasten 
The leakage o' my pen to fasten, 

'Gainst auld wife's saws : 
O' checking anger, staying expense, 
Curbing first steps frae innocence, 
Crushing the first unhallowed thought 
An' mony greater guids he taught 

Wi' moche applause. 



THE DRAKE AND THE GAME-COCK. 



We lang may hae our way fu' swing, 
But find at last the tether-string 

Bring us up short ; 
An' gin we strain the cord too much, 
It snaps, or wi' a strangling clutch 

Spoils a' our sport. 

A game-cock lang, wi' vapouring bluster, 
Had i' the hamestead made a fluster, 
An' gran' commotion : 



24 THE DRAKE AND THE GAME-COCK. 

Before him saucie cockerells fled, 
Even gobbling turkies booed the head 
In pale devotion. 

Wi' a raunge like this nae satisfied, 
Auld Gaffer Drake maun to his pride, 

Bend doun in awe ; 
The ducklings skirled as loud he crawed, 
An', like a dominie's big rod, 

Laid doun the law. 

Gaffer, unused to the hectoring, 
Made at his throat a wicked fling, 

An' grabbled tight : 
The flying feathers sharp he tuzzled, 
The weasan-pipe he sairly nuzzled 

In angry fight. 

In vain he twirks his near-han' spur, 
In vain his red-challers threaten war 

An* fierce eyne bleeze ; 
In vain his flapping pennons rattle, 
Far straunger pennons wage their battle 

An' his pride deize. 

He sued : the baffled tyrant sued, 
Choaked wi' vexation, choaked wi' bluid 

An' dust, an' heat : 
" Keep ye your station," quo' the drake, 
" I nae wi' ither, mell ne make 

Ne drad defeat. 



THE SCORPION AND HIS TORMENTORS. 25 

Peaceful an* calm, an' patient lang, 
I rather wud submit to wrang 

Than stir up strife : 
But, mark me, e'en frae amang the weak 
The indignant spirit may outbreak, 

Nor spare your life." 



THE SCORPION AND HIS TORMENTORS, 

Are there not in this spacious globe 
Beings, disguised beneath the robe 

Of friendship and of truth ; 
Are there not wretches ; are there not 
Fiends, whose existence is a blot, 

Fiends lost to holiest ruth ? 

Oh, know ye not, for such there are 
Whose play-game is malignant war, 

Whose love is bitterest hate : 
Know ye not some, whose blood-hound breath 
Taints, poisons, weaves in webs of death 

The poor unfortunate, 



26 HODGE. 

And smile ? — So laughed with hellish glee 
Men, at the martyring misery 

Of a scorpion thrown into flame 
Yet, ere the tortured suicide 
Struck the stern death-blow, aloud he cried, 

" On you the sin, the shame, 

On you alight the crime ye cause, 
On you fall retribution's laws, 

On you be curse and ban ; 
Crimeless not I, but ye shall bear 
The weight of my sad sepulchre, 

Outcast of God and man." 



HODGE. 

That man is never out at sea 
Who has a natural buoyancy, 

Like cork or feather ; 
Nor is he lost, though out of town, 
Who can make himself a bed of down 

From moss or heather. 



"27 



He may be never fairy-led 

Who has natural glow-worms in his head ; 

He who has not, 
If in the dark, had better take 
The shining grub from the dewy brake 

And stick on his coat. 

Not so, thought Hodge, whose upper rooms, 
Like nicely-gilded Chinese tombs 

Were to let unfurnished : 
It were time enough, if he should let them, 
To rout the fixtures up and get them 

Well cleaned and burnished. 

Soaking himself, as he was wont 
In the good, old-accustomed haunt, 

Stupid as a log : 
" No, that he would not from danger flinch, 
What cared he for frog-eating French, 

Who cared for fog ? 

" He would not take the offered lantern, 
He knew the way, he did n't want one, 

He would n't have it ; 
He knew he was not in a fog, 
Or if he were, a free-born dog 

Would never slave it. 

" No, he would be neither led nor lighted, 
He knew that he was not benighted/' 
So, made a start : 



28 



Hallooing, he set the wide moor ringing ; 
Whistling, and staggering, and singing, 
Kept up his heart. 

And 'though the mist its blackness blackened, 
No, not a whit his pace he slackened, 

But right on drove. 
Nought could he see a yard around, 
Nor stick, nor stake, upon the ground, 

Nor star above. 

But he was staunch and resolute, 

A thorough, headstrong, bull-dog brute, 

And as he could not 
See through the gloom, " Why, what cared he ? 
He was a Briton born, and free, 

And see he would not." 

Muffling his coat around his head, 
Onward the booby blundered 

Right manfully : 
Nor hesitated, until his sconce 
With an old oak tree played at bonce 

For mastery. 

From the timber trunk, his timber head 
Bounded off nimbly, and he fled 

Like a marble split : 
Twirling round, like a Catherine-wheel, 
Heel over head, head over heel 

Down a gravel-pit. 



THE EXILE. 29 

Laughing, you call drunken Hodge " a fool ;" 
Are there no others in the school 

The cap will fit ? 
Whoever shuts both ears and eyes, sirs, 
And listens not to good advisers 

Has little wit : 

And, boy or man, whoe'er persists, 
And, obstinately mad, resists 

Against tuition ; 
Will, ere long on life's journey outset, 
Find himself in a gravel-pit 

Or in worse condition. 



THE EXILE. 

TO AN ENGLISH DAISY POUND IN A FOEEION LAND. 

Lovely flower of islands blest 
Melting soft in western light, 
Waking in my throbbing breast 
Thoughts and dreams of lost delight : 
Art thou friend, or art thou foe, 
Speakest thou of joy, or woe, 



30 THE EXILE, 

Speakest thou of war, or peace, 
Of misery or happiness, 
Still will I clasp thee to my heart 
For of my father-land thou art. 

Loveliest gem of beauty's isle, 
Comest thou in wrath to me, 
Or, cradled in affection's smile, 
Trackedst thou the stormy sea ? 
Pledge of love, or threat of hate, 
Balmed with health, or barbed with fate, 
Laden with curse, or fraught with blessing, 
Rejecting me, or still caressing, 
Yet will I clasp thee to my heart, 
For of my father-land thou art. 

Bonniest bloom of nature's wreath, 
Tell me good, yet tell me truth : 
Breathes the fond paternal breath 
That hallowed my earliest youth ; 
Breathes a mother's holy sigh 
Deep imbued with sympathy ; 
Brothers, sisters, do they pray 
For the poor exile far away ? 
Oh, whisper to my anxious heart 
For of my father-land thou art. 

Hearest thou ? — Oh, answer me, 
Did the sainted tear-drop fall ; 
Did they in silent ecstacy 
To memory's soul my form recal ; 



THE EXILE. 31 

Does thy fairy-cup enfold 
Friendship's brightest, purest gold ; 
Did the dew that decks thy stem 
Fall from chaste love's diadem ? 
Oh, whisper to my anxious heart, 
For of my father-land thou art. 

Thou speakest not. But I will speak, 
But I will dream of days gone by ; 
Think, 'till my heart with thinking break, 
And sigh 'till thought forget to sigh ; 
And under the parental roof 
I hear the kind, the fond reproof, 
I hear the prayer ascend to heaven, 
I feel respondent blessings gi^en, 
And, crush thee on my bursting heart 
For of my father-land thou art. 

Blessed flower ; thy look is peace, 
Thy meek and maiden modesty, 
Rich in its own contentedness, 
Bids carking care my dwelling flee : 
Oh, I will love, will o'er thee bend, 
A fast-sworn, never-swerving friend ; 
And as my homeward-seeking sigh 
Blends with thy gentle fragrancy, 
Still will I press thee to my heart, 
For of my father-land thou art, 



32 



THE MISANTHROPE. 



No, — ask not why my brow is stern, 
No, — ask not why my eye is sad. — 
Gloom and despair may pass away, 
Madness may leave its outworn pre}^ 
Pitied and mourned : but I, — yes, I 
Am loathed as creation's enemy. 

And yet I weep ; and yet I know, 
In fancy know each human thrill ; 
Know all the charities that twine 
Their tendrils round compassion's shrine, 
Yet snap them through, and as they die 
Writhe in reproachful agony. 

And, know you not ? No, never know, 
No, never feel this sordid fire. 
Poisonous, 'twill gnaw the sinewy form, 
Baneful, 'twill beauty's self deform, 
And fretting, cankering, withering still, 
Brand thee a minister of ill. 

Yet, pass me not. — No — not in need 
Of help, of pity, shun me thus. 



THE MISANTHROPE. 33 

Feel I not all the wounds I give ; 
Do I not feared and hated live : 
Loved, not by one, by none revered, 
By myself hated, loathed, feared ? 

No social joy for me has joys, 

No grief has griefs that I can share : 

Entrenched in self, in drear delight 

Consuming day, exhausting night, 

Isolatedly alone 

I smile, I sigh, I laugh, I groan. 

Yet know I not ferocious hate, 
Nor know I spite, nor malice know ; 
No wish have I around to hurl 
Destruction, and in the maddening whirl 
Ride riot, and with baleful blast 
Wither the joys I cannot taste. 

Oh, yes, — my soul can, in her flight, 
Paint weeping joys to thaw my heart. 
Tears of imaginary woe 
The stone can melt. — The ice can flow — 
And yet, — and yet I scarcely feel 
The real woes of the miserable. 

Outstretched in anguish, gnawn by pain, 
Pined down by want, a crawling corpse 
Vainly implores, entreats in vain. 



34 THE MISANTHROPE. 

Close gripes my hand. Not in the vein 
For pity, I, unblest, pass by ; 
Unblest, yet pitied by charity. 

And I can scowl, and I can draw 
My heart-strings tight, my blood suppress ; 
Compress each generous, struggling tear, 
Each hope, each wish, ensepulchre, 
And, wrapt in night, and wrapt in gloom, 
Live, as I were a living tomb : 

A living bane, all hope to blight, 

A kill- crop wretch, all joy to mar.— 

The mother round her baby flings 

Protecting arms, the scared child clings 

And screams : — and friends — no friend have I, 

No, not with beasts in amity. 

Oh, no. — I live, from life exiled, 
Inhabiting, not of this world. 
Homeless at home ; I nought possess 
Possessing all ; drear wretchedness 
Is all my joy ; my hope is all 
Despair ; my birth, a funeral. 

Here, buried — there, futurity 
Lights not. — Yes— oh, despite of all 
Corroding torments ; there I see 
Light marching forth in panoply, 
Creating good, destroying ill, 
One glad, eternal miracle. 



the bardie's lament. 35 

Oh, pray for me ! — For you I pray, 

Though bitter are the plaints I breathe ; 

Pray this repulsive temper may 

No longer bind me as its prey ; 

Oh pray that I, once more, may know 

The endearing sanctities of woe : 

Those lovely sanctities, those joys, 
The joys, the fears, of angels born ; 
Those pleasures which en-honey mirth, 
Beatitudes which, o'er the hearth 
Circling on flowery pinions, bind 
Man unto man, and kind to kind. 



THE BARDIE'S LAMENT 

FOR HIS PET CHAFFINCH. 

Puir, bonnie birdie ! thou art gane 
Scrimpit in flesh, an' bluid, an' bane, 
Unheard thy last, departin' mane 

To lang, lang rest ; 
Biggin aneath the moulderin stane 

Thy drearie nest. 

d 2 



36 the bardie's lament. 

Thou wert indeed, a bonnie birdie, 
Braw feathers deckit thy sleekit hurdie, 
An' nobler presence had na Geordie 

Upon his throne, 
Wi' a' his gowd, his trash, his dirdie, 

Scaptre, an* croun. 

Bauld was thy brow, an' gleg thine e'e, 
Thy skirl wad stay the passer by, 
As chatterit on reight gloriously 

Thy cheerfu' sang, 
Blithe as thou had' been ever free, 

Nat prisoned lang. 

It was nae whimperin, whifflin glaver, 
Nae daft, Italian cleishmaclaver, 
Nae Colin-hoodie, pipin' ever 

Wi* unco pain, 
But true-born Briton, rantin owre 

His jollie strain. 

In spite ©' pain, in spite o' waes, 
Spite o' the glow'r o' feline faes, 
Spite o' the sheers that skelpit thy taes, 

An* touchit the marrow, 
An' garred thee hirple a' thy days, 

Thou hast kenned na sorrow. 

Hartsome an' winsome, fu' o' glee, 

Thou perkit thy crest, an glentit thine e'e. 



the bardie's lament. 37 

An' lookit, apprehension free,, 

On the han' that fed thee ; 
Undreaming 'twas the neif sae slee, 

Thus evil sped thee. 

But, birdie ! 'twas na meant for ill j 
Nae bad intent, nae wicked will, 
But sheer unlawfu' want o' skill 

Did thee the wrang, 
An' garred my vera heart-bluid thrill 

Like thine ain sang. 

But thou forgie'd it, an' I made, 
In sma' amend for the rude raid, 
An easie perch, an' cosie bed, 

An nursit thee weel, 
An'ance I howkit thee frae the deid 

Wi 'warier skill. 

An' ance, an' ever we were friends, 

Sic as the warl' na aften finds, 

Ane in our hearts, an' ane our minds ; 

Thou o'er thy game 
Crackin content, an I wi' pains, 

'Hovin thy wame. 

'Hech, birdie! spite o' a' thy ills, 
Thou had nae bodin grief that kills, 
Waur than a' blisters, draps, an pills, 
An' sic like trash; 



38 the bardie's lament. 

Whiles routh an' stouth thy crawie filled 
Thou had need na fash. 



But man, puir man, may drudge an' toil, 
Vapour, an' swagger for a while, 
May spen' himsel in the turmoil 

For fame an' wealth, 
Glad to escape the sufferin coil 

Wi loss o' health. ' 

Wi' loss o' health, wi' loss o' gear, 
The hard, hard toil o' mony a year, 
Loss o' each guid the warl' haud's dear, 

An' waur than a' 
Wi'out a friend to drap a tear, 

O'er his cauld clay. 

While thou nay, birdie ! thou maun dee 

To live na mair: — but man may be, 
Gin he tak tent o' Christian'ty 

A spirit fair, 
An, deeing ance, may rise wi' glee, 

To dee na mair. 



39 



OH, ISRAEL! 



Rise, in your faith, O Israel, rise ! 

Gird, gird your armour on ; 
O'er mountain, forest, vale, heath, plain, 

O'er Ocean journey on. 

Pour from the wave-encircled south, 
Pour from the ice-bound north ; 

Pour from the east, pour from the west, 
Pour, pour your children forth. 

From Albion's cliff, Columbia's wild, 

From Erin and from Gaul ; 
From Gades to Moscovia, 

Your standard summons all. 

From Elam, Parthia, Media, 
From China's teeming land ; 

From Gambia's blazing sands of gold, 
From Egypt's fertile strand : 

On, on, on, on : not in your might, 

Not in your mortal pride ; 
But in the strength of Hiin, who lives, 

And yet was crucified. 



40 OH, ISRAEL ! 

Humble and meek, yet firm, yet fierce 

Against trie deadly foe ; 
Who, wielding sin, and hell, and death, 

Once laid your leader low : 

But yet had scarcely viewed the deed, 
Scarce heard the parting breath, 

Ere chains of ever-living fire 
Bound him, sin, hell, and death, 

Indissolubly bound. — On, on, on, on, 
On from each servile band ; 

On with your gems, on with your gold, 
On to your father-land, 

On, on ; and when ye kiss the soil 
Which your forefathers trod, 

In strains of deathless gratitude, 
Bless your forefathers' God. 

Bless Him, who through the Coral- Sea 
Led Israel's wanderers forth ; 

Bless Him, who Israel's glorious host, 
Draws from the frozen north. 

Bless Him from Sharon's roseate vale, 

Bless Him from Aijalon ; 
Bless Him from Carmel's flowery top, 

Bless Him from Lebanon. 



41 



And as ye bless Him, from your hills, 

Pour on the darkling earth, 
That light, that life, that joy, that love, 

Which leads your legions forth. 

'Till every land and every tongue 
Shall your blest chorus swell ; 

And heaven to earth, and earth to heaven, 
The gladdening story tell. 



PRAYER. 



Say, what is prayer, and whence shall prayer 
In meetest guise ascend to heaven; — 

By sculptured fanes, by cloisters fair, 
Is strength to supplication given ? 

Does solitude to prayer incite, 
Or cherish crowds the holy fire ; 

Illumes it with the altar's light, 
Responds it to the sounding lyre ? 



42 



Can brilliant day, can nightly gloom. 
Can twilight in her misty pall ; 

Or, can the solitary tomb 

The yew-tree shade, the ivied wall, 

The rains where our fathers lie, 

The caves where saintly martyrs rest; 

Raise into sacred energy 

The slumbering of the sordid breast ? 

In fear, in anguish, in despair, 

Prayer may ascend with bitterest shriek ; 
As, slumbering caught within their lair, 

Yells may from slaughtered lions break. 

In pining hope, in misery, 

Earnest and frequent prayer may rise ; 
But oh, the Christian loves to see, 

The uninterested sacrifice. 

And loves, abstracted if alone, 

Abstracted though in thronged fanes, 

Mentally prostrate at the throne 
Of mercy, to pour out its strains. 

Secret from all, but Him, whose ear, 

Whose eye, whose love, which never sleep 

Read in the penitential tear, 

Praises which contrite creatures weep. 



CONTRITION. 43 

Yes — that is praise and that is prayer, 

Though eye, nor lip, nor gleam, nor move, 

Which, upward on their pinions bear, 
Revering duty, fervent love. 

And that the place whence prayer should rise, 
Where holiest thoughts the soul prepare ; 

Altars make not the sacrifice, 

Nor time, nor place, the Christian prayer. 



CONTRITION. 



From dreariest depths of misery, 
From vales of deepest woe ; 

In anguish wails my bitter cry, 
In terror heaves my throe. 

Oh mighty, dreadful, terrible, 

Justly incensed God; 
Oh look in mercy on the worm 

That writhes beneath thy rod. 



44 CONTRITION. 

My guilt, my weariness, my woe, 
Lie prostrate at thy throne ; 

Worthless and wretched, outcast, lost, 
My sinfulness I own. 

I plead, in tears of blood I plead, 

I, deeply shuddering cry, 
Guilty ! oh, guilty ! guilty still ! 

My guilt will never die : 

But deadlier, deadlier, deadlier still, 

Will be my misery ; 
More dreadful, and more dreadful still, 

My torturing agony. 

There is no hope, no trembling hope, 

No hope to be forgiven ; 
None in the deep, none in the earth, 

No — none in highest heaven. 

None, none — but One— and for his grace, 

I dare not, dare not plead ; 
Who can for me, for that blest hope, 

Dare yet to intercede. 

Not one, not one : — of all that lured, 

Of all that cheered me on ; 
None can, for me, for pardon plead, 

Not one, not one, not one. 



CONTRITION. 45 

Not one. — There is but only one, 

And Him I dare not see ; 
He came from heaven to die for man, 

But could not die for me. 

For crime on crime, still bear me down, 

Still plunge me deeper still ; 
Strong as His mercy, strong His love, 

My crimes are stronger still. 

And, though His all-atoning blood 
Could cleanse the encrimsoned sea ; 

It could not, could not hide my crimes, 
It could not flow for me. 

And, could His ever-yearning love 
Place me on heaven's pure throne ; 

My guilt would snatch my withering soul, 
And hurl me, headlong, down. 

I am the only, only one, 

That cannot be forgiven ; 
All may be pardoned, all be saved, 

All, all may enter heaven, 

But me. — Yet could I, could I pray, 

He might in mercy deign 
To hear — 'tis said, the vilest wretch, 

Never implores in vain. 



46 CONTRITION. 

But I am so, so deadly vile, 

Without, around, within, 
My penitence would stream with guilt, 

My prayer would shriek with sin. 

I shriek, I shriek. — Oh, pardon me, 
Save, save, oh, save my soul : 

Cleanse, cleanse my fearful guiltiness, 
Make, make, oh make me whole, 

Make, make me pray — Oh, by thy blood, 

Which flowed on Calvary ; 
By thy dread, last, expiring groan, 

And, by thine agony, 

Hear, hear, oh, hear ! a suppliant wretch 
Heed, heed my piteous cry : 

Look down in mercy, on my soul, 
Save, save thine enemy, 

Save, save me. 



47 



A HYMN. 



Soul of the world, dread source of light, 

In all perfection infinite ; 

Creation's all-pervading sense ; 

Pure, self-sustained intelligence ! 

The teeming earth, heaven's glorious host, 

Moons, suns, and stars, in radiance lost ; 

In glowing concert, as they roll, 

Hail Thee, The Universal Soul. 

The intensely clear, the tranquil sky, 
Broad ocean's calm immensity, 
Motionless air, the roseate breath 
Of flood, of fell, of mead, of heath ; 
Earth wide outspread, her thousand hills, 
Her thousand vales, her thousand rills, 
Instinct with Thee, in glad accord 
Hail Thee, The Universal Lord. 

And day, and night, the dazzling blaze 

Of fervid noon, the placid gaze 

Of midnight deep, blithe summer's heat, 

Stark winter's cold, the arrowy sleet, 

The still-descending, genial rain, 

The dew-reek from the laughing plain; 

All, all, rejoicing in their birth, 

Hail Thee, The Lord of heaven and earth. 



48 



And every tribe of every form, 

That glide the lake, or ride the storm, 

That thread the caverns of the deep, 

Or climb the wild mount's splintered steep, 

In ceaseless stream that cloud the sky, 

Or, darkling in the dank fen lie ; 

All, all that creep, all, all that soar, 

Thee, The Creator-Lord adore. 

All, in exuberant songs of mirth, 
Swell the glad praises of the earth ; 
All, in rich floods of melody, 
Swell the glad praises of the sky ; 
All, in exulting, rapturous strain 
Swell the glad praises of the main : 
By Thy whole universe adored 
Thou art, The only God and Lord. 



BIRTH, 



DEATH, 



RETRIBUTION 



% §txit& of ^fcetdjeS, 



IN VERSE, 



51 



BIRTH. 



THE MOTHER' 



Hard by the gate of death I swooned, 
The glazing film suffused mine eye ; 

A.s outworn by one leprous wound 
Scarce could I raise my piteous cry. 

But Thou didst hear that piteous moan. 
But Thou didst stoop my soul to free j 

The grave re-echoed, as my groan 
Swelled to a shout of victory. 

Oh, thou, that didst in mercy hear 
Still, still secure me from all ill ; 

Teach me thy holy name to fear, 
Teach me to love thy holy will : 
e 2 



5.2 



And, teach me in thy narrowest path 
To train this dear, this first-born child ; 

To bid her, in the day of wrath, 
Plead, and to thee be reconciled. 

Baby, thou sleepest void of fear : 

So sleep, so live, so die, secure 
Heaven has for thee a pardoning tear, 

And heaven's redeeming love is sure. 

Dwelling upon each tone, 
As though each tone struck on some sister key ; 
In gentlest play, informing but not marring 
The angelic features, sympathy, commiseration, 
Hope, and all else of endearing import, mark 
The ministering spirits ; each from each 
Varying as vary roses of one stem, 
Equally beauteous, fragrant equally, as watching, 
Guarding, supporting, and with kindliest aid 
Whispering resignation, they surround 
A sister of earthly elements. 

They watch 
In guardianship, and, where they watch, 
Afar off in loathsome»c conclave, fiends, in the foulest 
Concord of hatred, their discordant forms 
Roll back compulsively, while lips of earth 
"Vibrate with notes of heaven. 



IURTH. 53 

Pausing, 
As when some lovely modulation melts, 
And mingles with young evening's balmy breath 
Its richest intonation, spell- bound, the ear 
Entrances up the senses, and we sit 
Breathless, lest breathing unjoy us, the blest watchers 
Hang silent : — then, in rapturous ecstacy 
The full chord strike : 



HYMN OF THE MINISTERING SPIRITS. 

". Glory ! 
Glory. Hear ye ! hail the sound. 
Glory. Earth and heaven are bound 
Once more. Once more the blest ethereal fire 
Breathes from heaven to inspire 
The barren clod. The senseless clay 
Wakes to creation's bounteous day. 

Glorious, wondrous. Deity 
Manifests himself in thee, 
Piteous, helpless, wailing child. 
'Though not less in insect swarms, 
'Though not more in angel forms, 
'Though not more in worlds that sail, 
Curving through night's dusky veil ; 
'Though not more in systems, sweeping 
Dim in distance, almost sleeping, 



54 BrRTH. 

As they, exanimate in awe, 
Infinitude arising saw 
From nothing : — yet in thee, more mildly, 
More mercifully, more lovingly, 
Frail germ of immortality, 
Glows the life-giving Deity. 
Glory ! " 

Under mild southern skies, 
At vintage even, rises on the breeze 
A sacred vesper-hymn. Aerial twilight spreads 
Its deep, subduing softness, o'er the calm, 
Clear, silver-bosomed streamlet : until the senses 
Lulled in voluptuous sweetness, sink in peaceful 
Undreading slumber. 

Fierce, licentious eyes 
Glare from the gloomy ravine. The dark Corsair 
Shrieks his bewildering cry, as intercepting chasms 
Forbid the concerted swoop. The startled peasants 
In their security, with wonder gaze 
As the torch-gleams, illumining horrid brows 
Paint man in his demon form, and in instinctive dread 
Close trembling around their offspring : so closer draw 
The ministering spirits as the fiends 
Raise their insulting taunt. 



55 



THE TAUNT OP THE DEMONS. 



" Horror ! — ha, ha ! — Derision and scorn, 
Why mock ye thus at the brat newly born ? 
Why mock we thus ? Mock they not their chief 
With flatteries belying their firm belief? 

Ha, ha, — ha, ha! — Think ye that the song, 
And the silvery lisp of an angel's tongue 
Keep us aloof ? In their leashes restraining, 
Blood-hounds and vampires backward reining, 
We poison their fangs, as they champ and chew, 
And yelp, and change their putrescent hue. 

Why poison we, why barb we their teeth ; 
Why tinge we, why taint we their pestiferous breath ? 
Why ? but to gibe, and to jeer, and to laugh, 
While, wallowing in blood, they the life-blood quaff. 

Ha-ha, ha-ha ! How ye crouch and quail, 

And fan off with your pennons the life-tainting gale. 

Chary be ye of the breathing clay : 

We snuff the quarry, we scent the prey, 

And, eager as death, and relentless as fate, 

Swoop we, and tear we the wretches we hate. 



56 



As we riot, and revel, and scream with delight ; 
Retreating, and cowering, and withering with fright, 
Pray ye, and wail ye, while we in full cry, 
Mangle your charge, and the limbs toss on high. 

Aye, smile ye ! restrained, as ye know, is our rage, 
That driveller's love shall grow colder with age, 
And the prayer which now haloes the child of his soul, 
Those prayers which inveterate diseases controul, 
Shall faint and shall fail, and the hope and the faith 
Die in distrust, and unshackle grim death : 

And we shall exult as vice stains her deeper, 
As pleasures unhallowed in infamy steep her ; 
As, marred in its blossom, as cankered and gnawn, 



So guard ye your charge." 

In aspiration fervent, lowly bending, 

Humbled in dust, as in the awful presence 

Of Him, whose infinite essences pervade 

His works, stupendous works ! surpassing far more 

Man's labours, than the flesh-shrined intellect, 

(Which confines, almost diving into the blaze 

Of heaven's effulgence, and from the holiest fountain 

Drinketh in wisdom, until the expansive scene 

Of his Creator's works lies stretched around 

As Europe beneath Etna, and the vile reptile 

Almost becomes as a god) surpasses blank 



57 



And chilling nothingness : — with arms outstretche d, 
And eyes, which fain would, although in humility 
They dare not look toward heaven ; while pure tears 
Of overflowing gratitude and love 
Well from the heart's inmost sources, adoringly 
The father's prayer arises. 



THE FATHER'S PRAYE1 



" Oh, thou great, 
Dread, dread, Creator ! How have I deserved 
Weak, worthless, vile, abased as I am 
This increase of blessing ? Could I thank thee more 
Than tears, and trembling yet aspiring love 
Can thank, more were too meanly despicable 
But that thou stoopest and from the peasant hand 
Acceptest the obscurest flower. — At thy feet 
I thank, I bless, I praise. — O thou, my Maker ! 
So pour thine influence, so imbue her soul, 
That growing, she may, like thee when on earth, 
In stature so in spiritual increase, live 
Amid this darkness, an immingled ray 
Of virtues brightest and dearest. Upon her head 
Pour blessings. Bid ministering spirits guard 
Her tottering steps. Be thou, be thou, O Father ! 
Through this wayfaring life, her helm, her shield : 
Whatever ill, whatever misery may, 



58 



In thy best wisdom, purify her from 

Earth's thraldom ; oh, do thou her footsteps guide, 

Still bear her harmless, still the tempter stay, 

Still lead her onward, until from the dizzy verge 

Of utmost earthy across death's blank abyss 

The purest exhalation e'er that ascended 

In burning incense, Thee only excepted, wing 

Its joyous flight." 

And, joyously around 
Spirits of awful form, as age on age, 
Had goodliest lines of noblest ancestry 
Star-crowned poured forth ; intently listening, 
Dwell on the suppliant accents : then, in unison 
Lowly resounding, as from some cloistered fane 
Vigil or orison, in holiest strain 
Ascendeth with the mellowing murmur mingled 
Of distant rushing water ; pray they not 
Riches, or rank, or beauty, or endoAvment 
Of highest intellect ; but, giving life 
To wishes, which but rising in the mind, 
Unuttered but in thought, the parent's soul 
Still spell-bound hold : prophetical of good 
Implore they Christian virtues, amplest power 
Beneficence to wish, to will, to effect ; 
That, blest in the contemplation, earth and heaven 
Harmonionsly rejoicing, they and theirs, 
Mutually enlightening, mutually excelling 
Each other in perfection's varied forms, 
May, fondly looking through the splendid void 



BIRTH. 59 

Of by-gone ages, illumined brilliantly 

As a sea of star-light, trace, still wondering trace 

Their devious trackways, until, with bliss o'erpowered 

And rapturous gratitude, dissolving, as if they died 

Into the Eternal's splendour, in holiest hymns 

Unutterably, incommunicably rich 

In treasures of beatific vision, they 

Ever may dwell upon, ever may celebrate 

This natal hour. 

And, as their prayer subsides, 
That blest Archangel, he who first perceives 
And human life incipient nourishes 
Until the day-spring greets it ; yielding up his charge, 
The ministering spirits, bids rejoice 
In this, of the Creator's power another instance. 
Of his pervading care another pledge. 



THE ANGEL OF LIFE. 

u As never failed them day, and sister night 
Yet never left them by her balms unsoothed 
So never yet has failed, nor yet shall fail 
Until the grand consummation of the proof 
Of His hatred and His love ; one equal line 
Of beings accountable, perpetuated 
By secondary causes, yet eloquently 
Bearing the impress of perpetuated 



60 



Creation. — In this weak, puny flesh, 

In this poor being, helpless and ignorant, 

The breath of God, an immortal principle 

Has given life to, whose irradiations 

May, in the wisdom of the dread First Cause, 

Illuminate, and beautify, and embellish, 

Of this terrestrial scene, the social joys, 

And, ultimately, sisters, the new-born angel, 

As now the new-born mortal, we may greet 

And chorus its acclamations." 



THE CHARGE TO THE GUARDIAN-ANGEL. 

" Sister, thou 
Hast nourished, and to its perfected expansion watched 
Of human mold an amaranthine flower 
And needest another ward. — Around her head 
Here watch, and diligently, as thou knowest 
Diligence how needful. Pour into her soul 
Divinest consolation. As the germ 
Of intellect awakening, spreads its fibres 
As a tree its roots, nourishment seeking out, 
Be wary, lest the marrer of our toil 
Secretly taint the well-spring. As you may, 
Not urging, not compelling, for the human soul 
Accountable for action must be free 
Action to purpose or effect, far off 
Drive sedulously those who lurk around 



61 



Externally to tempt, or by vile imagery 
To impure the purest, most exalted, most 
Ennobling of human virtues. Evil, they 
Love evil, and, ever envious, ever strive 
Him to assail, who but thus suffers them 
His goodness, his perfection, his surpassing 
Perfection to evince." 

So charged, so sits 
Watching the Guardian Angel; and around 
A circlet of attendant spirits bend 
In yearning love ; and, woven into sounds, 
As insect murmurings rise upon the fragrance 
Of morning's incense-tribute, harmoniously 
The angel caution, and, responsively, 
The angel entreaty arise. 



THE RECORDING ANGELS. 

'" Watchful be thou, sister spirit. 
Slumber not upon thy guard ; 
Evil may thy charge inherit 
Shouldst thou fail in watch and ward. 



THE GUARDIAN ANGEL. 



,c Vigilant, unslumbering, 
Anxiously my charge I tend. 



62 



Ye, who virtues numbering 
Eagerly to heaven ascend, 
Bearing elate the record true : 
Should ye in your voyage see 
Any impending enemy, 
Kindly give me caution due." 



THE ATTENDANT SPIRITS. 

" Fear they not, but pure affection 
Bids the wish in sounds o'erflow ; 
Vigilance and circumspection 
Need we ; stealthy is the foe." 



THE GUARDIAN ANGEL. 

" Mortal mansions circuiting, 
Anxious ever to defend ; 
As ye ply the agile wing 
See ye aught that can offend, 
Palsying dew, exciting air, 
With demoniac malice fraught, 
To fever or to enerve the thought, 
Warn me of the subtle snare." 



63 



THE ATTENDANT SPIRITS. 

" Fear thou not ; nor time, nor distance 
Check the ever-ready aid ; 
Wish thou, and the wished assistance 
Waves its sword-fire round thy head." 



Fixedly, 
As in resolve not firmly yet resolved, 
,Eying the longed-for prey, as eyes some poor 
Bewildered, lone, assistanceless traveller 
Wrecked on untrodden shores, a tigress fell 
By her whelps dry-drawn : so rabid, and so fell 
Of purpose, lured from his midnight prowl 
By the snarling, jackall clamour, the Wan-fiend, 
Dark in his purposes (although scotched, and blasted 
To ignominy and exile, still superiorly 
Above his fellows rising, as pillared flame 
Shoots up in awful volume, through ember-charged 
Mephitic volcano smoke) upon one knee 
Resting his pennoned arms, and pressing hard 
With clenched hands, the close-set, arching lips, 
Straineth his eye-balls, whose malignant fires 
Wander like storm-lapped suns, as though their glare 
Snake-like, could draw, forth of her dim recess, 
Futurity, and mark, as marks some chieftain 



In the lengthened legions of an opposing array- 
Wherethrough to dash, and on his keen sword's edge 
Balance mercy or slaughter. — Changing in hue 
With rising passions, as contending fires 
Hue-vary melting metals, his huge form 
Heaves. — Unable to resolve 

Flag down his thought-strained features, and a smile 
Emphatically contemptuous, up-draws 
The thick, expressive lip. 

" Nurse, nurse, he cries, 
Tend as ye will the despicable wretch, 
Fan as he will my hungry harpies off, 
Deep in the citadel, as pest and plague 
Engender amid filth, corrupting passions 
Their venemous rot-web spreading, despite of ye 
Shall heat, shall seethe her blood : and, — yes i while ye 
Unpowered by human wickedness, hold back 
Weeping not striving ; shall, impetuously rushing 
As the wild war-whoop rushes, hornet legions 
Banquet upon your hive. — Weak, flimsy toys, 
Pranked bubbles, floating in a colouring sun, 
And bursting as he warms ye : wring it's neck, 
And as ye wring it, decorously whine 
A requiem. — Vile, this world 

Us needs not to defile it, nor to increase 
Evils, which springing as from corruption spring 
Infectious foetid mosses, poison all 
The easily-tainted labour. — But, revenge, 
Dear, dear revenge for injury unmerited 



65 



Onward impels. — Yes, yes, we will avenge us 

And through his creature's sides, with goring wounds 

Trench in his heart deep scars. — Our place to fill 

By another, and a better race strives he ; 

But, lest the loved work melt beneath his fingers 

Flaws it by sinful fires ; or, if it escape 

The trial, in his jewel cabinet 

Uptreasures ringing-vessels, which, as his breath 

Strikes them, must echo flatteries. — Think ye not 

I envy this. His empty stalls behold 

Like coffers of their dignifying treasures 

Rudely despoiled, and clamorously upbraiding 

The silly spendthrift ; and, your shame-stricken eyes 

Feast on the fervid gems, deep-set in rich 

Resplendent caskets, whose all-piercing blaze 

Enriching the wide dominion, in whose bowels 

He fondly thought to immure us, far out-peer 

In real worth, his vapour-wreathed shrines 

And independent greatness. His, as a void 

Stall-carven choir ; and mine, as a glorious conclave 

Of scarlet-coped cardinals." 

So sneers 
The vaunting, yet shuddering spirit. 

Answering not 
Rest upon angel weapons, the angels pure 
Marking his downward flight. 



66 



THE HYMN OF THE GUARDIAN SPIRITS. 



" Yes, we trust thee : yes, we praise thee ; 
Yes, we bless thee : yes, we adore thee, — 
Thou art ever, ever near us, 
Ever do we stand before thee, 
Viewing, wondering as we view 
Thy virtue, searching nature through 
Producing, cherishing, impelling, 
All created worth excelling; 
Powerful, — as its power, to Thee 

Were, veriest inanity : 
Wise, as its wisdom were, to Thee 

Dreariest fatuity : 
Good, as its goodness were, to Thee 

Bitterest malignity." 



67 



DEATH. 



Yes, — where is now that visionary form 

Blithe as the earliest dream of striplinghood, 

When fancy paints the senses, and the iris-wings of 

hope, 
Fanning love's infancy in faery bowers, 
The ingenuous mind imbue ? — Yes — where sink now 
Eyes that once swam in rapture ? where sleep now 
Tones, at whose magical influence wrath stood still : 
Footsteps, whose tip-toe eagerness, fell on the ear 
As dew upon drooping violets : ready hands 
Upstaying the aching head of wretchedness : 
Thoughts which could intonate with thoughts, and, 

silently 
Heading the tearful wishes ; sympathetically 
Assuring their fulfilment, cheer with consolation 
The desolate spirit ? — Lies she there 
Outworn, exhausted ; living as though death 
Held mockery at life ? — Alas, alas ! 

f 2 



68 DEATH. 

Oh, what avails unspotted innocence ? 

Oh, what avail fair virtues, deep-enshrined 

As water in the palm-leaf, to refresh the traveller 

And yield self-nourishment ? Oh, what avail 

Perfections whose evanescent perfectness 

Leaves us but more to mourn for ? 

There, alas, 
Rich in the fellowship of misery ; 
Tended by piteous faces, wept by eyes 
Which glitter in their repressed tribute ; whispered to 
By tongues which pause in their condolence ; loving 

and loved 
Though the dissolving moments, slowly flowing 
As oil through rose leaves, softly insidious steal 
The fragrance they envelop.— Holily beautiful, 
Serene in her endurance, placidly 
Smiling, as infants smile upon the breast 
Which feeds them : in the arms reposing 
And cradled upon affection's throbbing bosom, 
The dying Christian, listens as heaven's silver sounds 
Blend with earth's moan of sorrow. 

Rooted stands 
Looking, yet looking not ; regarding, yet thinking not 
Of aught, save how, triumphant from the scene 
Of his sinking sister's death-bed, he may vaunt 
Amid lewd companions his superiority 
To nature, and nature's, custom-taught, impressions, 
The Unbeliever : — offering to the world 
Contemptuous sneers at the holy offices 






DEATH. 69 

Wherein, mingling in one spirit, hallowed lips 
The hallowed effusion breathing, taste, in faith, 
Joys which reality in other worlds 
To heighten may lack power. 

Hopes, against hope, 
Their mother, bending in the weight of years, 
Less than in weight of anxiety, the sad picture 
In its unpictured eloquence, may pierce through 
The fatal slumbering of conscience, and from that rock 
Tear forth the living fountain. 

Fearing most, 
As most to lose possessing, of her youth 
The husband and the friend : — and, friends endeared 
By reciprocal affection, silently 
Watch, as the sailor watches, of his bourne 
The fading beacon-light. 

Nor less intently, 
Nor less in interest, nor less in love ; 
Reclining over her pillow, communicating peace, 
And gently through the closing mists disclosing 
Glimpses of forms unearthly, as the soul 
Flutters upon life's confine, neither of earth 
Nor heaven ; upward her flight to wing 
Longing yet fearing : the attendant spirits. 

And, poised upon wings of ether, not in terrific, 
Appalling semblance, but so clad, as joy 



70 DEATH. 

And light were soul and body, he, at whose lightest 

touch 
Throw back their welcoming valves the gates of light ; 
Or, on harsh hinges grating, smoke inwhelmed, 
Stand gaping the gates of death, and in their greedy 

gorge 
Shrieks aloud hell's threshold : — tenderly assays 
His subtlest, least-painful, shaft : and, him entreatingly 
The Guardian Angel addresses : 

" Oh, not in wrath, 
Not in extremity of anger glare 
As thou art wont, when Murder, with fell scowl, 
Striding athwart his victim, in a moment 
Fear- stricken, hears vengeance, clamorously shrill, 
Rend midnight's veil, and demons howling rush 
To the nauseous surfeit : Oh, though all must shudder 
At thy momentous summons, even though thy voice 
But echo their aspiration ; yet, if there be, 
In kindliest greeting one more kindly accent, 
As nard or balm, oh, melt it from thy lip." 

And, with authority 
Tempering his mildness, as of rank superior 
In the heavenly hierarchy, to the Guardian Spirit, 
Replies the Releasing Angel. 

" Yet would I assume 
Terrors surpassing all mortal dread ever moulded 
From misty twilight : did I on the warring winds 






DEATH. 71 

As a desolator riding, peal through the sounding surge 

The death-knell ; or enwrapt with livid flame 

Sweeping in the storm-rack, shake my baleful tresses : 

Or, their restraint uncurbing, pour around 

These, who, with torture gnashing, champ their fangs 

In detestation : this refined spirit 

Would, as pure air imprisoned in a loathsome 

Stagnated pool, rise through the clinging elements 

In scorn towards its native region. Thus exhausted, 

Wearied, and to its last hold driven home 

By suffering, and keenest anxiety, 

Small were the pain attendant upon separation 

From the mortal slough ; even though, apparently 

To mortal senses, rending agony, 

And shrinking tremor, speak as if the grave 

Were, to the Christian terrible. For, know they not 

These fearful shudderings, may be but as the struggling 

Of the gay-fly from its coffin, to upwing 

Its voyage ; while before it, endless light, 

Me, floating in its radiance, such as thee, 

And myriads of ministering spirits waving around 

Their orient-coloured plumage, redolent 

Of joy and rapture, hail me, not as Death, 

But as of Eden's bliss the harbinger." 



n 



THE LAST TEMPTATION. 

" Despair, despair ! " 

Crouching in sleight within the tangling tresses, 
Watching the momentary respite of the Spirit's 
Attentive guardianship, in portentous tone 
Mutters the arch-fiend. In such extremity 
No common spirit of limitary powers 
And more limited malignancy, dare essay 
The angel-phalanx to elude. 

Inaudibly murmuring, 
The dying mortal, feebly lifting up 
Hands, once firm-clasped in fervour, in weakness] 

strives 
To entreat. 

The Believer. 

" Oh, merciful, 
Often deserted Maker, oh, have mercy/' 

Satan. 

" Trust thou not 
In this last hour Timely warning hadst thou 
Yet lackest oil : There are no merchants here." 



DEATH. 73 

The Believer. 

" Faintly I strove, too erringly I walked 
"Wavering in thy footpath. Oh, have mercy ! 
'Though worthless, yet I dare his blood to plead 
Who died " 



Satan. 

" And that blood stains thee fouler still 
In its rejected atonement." 

The Believer. 

" Oh, I call on Thee ;— 
Oh, as on earth, the participated blood 
And body of my Redeemer, to my faith 
G ave increase of faith, so, in thy heavenly rest, 
Give, give me food, and cleanse my parched lip." 

Satan. 

" And can the crumbled corn and staining juice 
Blanch crimes which would empurple the wide sea? 
Uttermost ruin hangs upon the fond, 
Deceitful superstition. — To a hair 
You clung, and the hair has snapt." 

The Believer. 

" Impure, impure, 
Loathsomely leprous : — Oh, avoid me all 
Ye who love God : — behold me here, and scorn 
The victim of his vengeance : — Oh, avoid me." 



74 DEATH. 

Laughing with satisfaction, as the thick 
Throe choaks the utterance, the pallid fiend 
Gloats on his hoped-for prey. 

Trembling 
With agonizing fear, intensely straining 
Their burning eyeballs, around the death-scene hang 
With clenched hands, in awe-stricken commiseration 
The miserable comforters. 

Her eyes 
Starting with incipient convulsion, frenziedly 
Beseech for pity, as the quick- catching lip 
Falls utter anceless. 

"Satan!"— 

And as the look 
Of beautiful indignation scars his cheek, 
Threatening, the foul fiend flees, and the Guardian 

Spirit 
Cheers her last hope. 

The Guardian Angel. 

" In mercy, not in wrath," 
With gentlest breathing, bending as her hands 
Wave off the clouding films ; " oh, not in wrath 
Looks down thy Maker upon his erring child." 

And, as a bent flag, from some turbid stream 
Is by a playful light-wind's breath upraised 
To assume strength's mimic semblance, rallying, 
Hope's ebbing spirits flow back. 



DEATH. 75 

The Believer. 

" Gloriously Merciful : 
Even in indignation merciful; 

Oh, from this depth of misery, hear my languishing 
Pour in my spirit thy subduing Spirit : — 
Worthless, except in thine imputed worth, 
Save, save me." 

And the peace-answering voice of Heaven, 

Manifest in the hectic, fluttering, flush, 

And the quickened eyeball gleaming unearthily, 

And the close-griping of the bony hands, 

The outstretching of the limbs, and stillest stillness 

Of the almost rigid features, lighted up 

By expectation's glow ; holily significant 

Of assurance re-assured, a correspondent 

Saint-glow light up in each regarding eye, 

Save his, in whose rank ear an insidious fiend 

Whispers of riot and debauchery ; 

Whispers of chains snapped off, of passions unthralled, 

And the full swing of pleasure, unrebuked 

By a sister's weeping eye. 

In the calm pause, 
As a fervid sun-beam raises on its stem 
A flower from the seed's corruption, winningly gentle, 
And in his features calling up fair smiles, 
The Releasing Angel, lightly as Eden's zephyrs 
Fan angel wings, the nascent spirit summons. — 

In the perilous moment, pouring from her eyes 



76 DEATH. 

The life-wish of her heart ; upon those eyes 

Whose scorn had mocked her entreaties, the Christian 

An earnest, a mournful gaze, [fixes 

Nor word escapes. 
Nor movement of the lip, but gleams one glance 
As it had said, " presentient of its uselessness 
I w r arn you yet once more," 

Then, beaming all 
The affections of her soul, concentrated 
In one, departing farewell, gratefully 
Her dear friends' kindness repaying : once reposing 
Upon her widowed mother, w r ho, outstretched, 
Over her feet kneels sobbing ; upon her head 
Once begging benedictions, the love -filled gaze 
Rivets itself upon her soul of soul 
Thankfully, as he raises their infant child. 

Playfully unsuspicious of his loss, 
Pleased with the novelty, he pats her cheek 
And smiles on his father ; then, nestling as he would 

nestle 
Eternally on the face he loves, one dying kiss, 
The last act of a mother, closes up 
The Christian mother's life. 

No sound is heard. — 
As in that first-born, universal stillness, 
Unbroken by human foot, when, in the desert, 
The Man of God, in visible glory saw 
The type of God, they feel that such a scene 
Is holy ground. 



77 



But, in the ambient air, 
Arising from her labour, virtuously- 
Rejoicing in the triumph, the Guardian Angf" 
Lifts her rejoicing stature, and pours forth 
Her strain of gratitude. 



HYMN OF THE GUARDIAN ANGEL. 

" Supreme, above 
All heavens, all worlds ; in thine immensity 
All-perfect, ever-blessed ; gloriously holy : 
In holiness, in glory, in thy perfections 
Ever infinite ; nought couldst thou need to increase 
Thine endless sum of happiness :— ^-yet, didst thou call 
Into light and being, heavenly hierarchies 
Of purely spiritual intelligence : 
Didst wide outspread, in thy beneficence, 
Orb upon orb, and ever limitless 
In power as in mercy, dost sustain 
All thine unbounded creation. This wild, bleak, 
This cheerless earth, beneath thy glowing smile 
Teemed into life exuberant. Man, of the dust 
Twin-brother, drew from thee his living soul ; 
And although he fell from his fealty, although he 
Ungrateful, indefensible, blasted by sin 
One of thy fairest works, and spiritual death, 
A dense, black mist, a putrefying fen 
Of present wretchedness, of future woe, 



78 DEATH. 

Marred thine own image, and the dullest brute 

Moved lordlier than his self-dethroned lord : 

Yet didst thou, in thy mercy, promise him 

Redemption; and, in thy plenitude of love, didst stoop, 

Mysteriously beyond thy creature's thought, 

As man to live, as man to suffer death, 

From sin, from death, the never-dying death 

Man to redeem. — Here, on thy foot- stool earth, 

I view thine image, by thee perfected ; 

And, perfect in my love and gratitude, 

Adore thee in thy mercy. — Oh, mayest thou 

Thus ever bless thy servant in her duty 

And ever save the souls she has to tend. — 

Alpha, Omega ; origin and end, 

Substance and sum of all that created mind 

Can, in sublimest musing, dimly conceive 

Of infinite perfection, deign to accept 

Thy lowliest creature's ardent gratitude. — 

Earth, Earth, O Earth ! 
Moon, and ye dazzling planets that wheel round 
Your mystic orbits : thou, far-blazing sun : 
Ye stars that in your innate ardour glow : 
Swell, swell my song ! 

Patriarchs, and kings, 
Priests, prophets, seers : ye ministering Spirits, 
Angel, Archangel, Cherub, Seraphim, 
Bathed in the rapturous flood of harmony 
Swell, swell my song ! 

High, holy, just, 
And merciful, and righteous ; mighty to save ; 
The dread Lord God of heaven's effulgent hosts 



79 



Bowed down his holy head : 

In his own son, 

His own, exalted, his beloved son, 

He laid his glory down ; 

He left his kingly throne ; 

He stabled among men; 

He bare man's life 

In meagre poverty; 

And, Lord of all, 

Had not wherewith to pillow 

His weary head : 

He bare taunts, scoffs, 

Despite, and contumely; 

And, perfect in purity, 

Died as a malefactor. 

Upon the cross 

He poured his righteous soul : 

Upon the cross 

He expiated sin, 

And to himself 

Himself he reconciled. 

In his own creature's form, 

In sorrow, grief, and shame, and ignominy, 

He trampled on 

The power of sin : 

He from the brow 
Of the arch-apostate tare his burning crown, 
Spurned down his principalities and powers, 

And from the grave, 
The lone, dark, drear, the dismal, silent grave, 
He rose a mighty conqueror, and dragged 



80 



Sin, Death, and Hell 
In triumph. 

Then, then we sang, 

And all the Morning- Stars, 

And all heaven's hosts 

Rang with our jubilee. 

Then, then we sang, 

As now — when saved from Sin, 

As now — when saved from Death, 

As now — when saved from Hell, 

We see arise 

A sainted sister from her agony, 

Cleansed, purified, redeemed, 

And sanctified, 

And made, 

Glorious, as God's own light, 

Holy, as God's own love : 

God, is all light, 
God, is all love." 

" Yes, God is light, and love, and holiness, 
All might, all wisdom ; and, surpassing all, 
Could any one perfection overpass 
Another, God is all mercy and beneficence : 
Witness this our dear sister." 

And all space 
Is filled with choiring spirits to rejoice with 
The soul, for heaven secured. 



8] 



Disappointed tigers, gnawing their lips for pain 
And rancorous despite, the malignant fiends 
Envy, yet still admire. Homage they pay 
Perforce, and, revolting against the admission, sti 

cry, perforce, 
" How beautiful is virtue \" 



The gladdened angel, 
Breathing out holiness, and looking love, 
As mothers look on their firstborn, bids her charge 
Ascend to awaiting Heaven. 

In delight, 
And radiant rapture, and exulting triumph, 
Attendant spirits spread their upward wings, 
And the Released Spirit, in her ascent 
Speaks her impressions. 



" And I yet live. — The agonizing throe 
Has not destroyed my spirit. — Still I live 
Yet dread new life. — Strangers ye are not. 
I have in dreams of holiest confidence 
Seen ye hang o^er me, heard your seraph-songs, 
And mingled in your praises ; yet I tremble 
And shudder from your spotless purity. — 
" Sister," ye hail me ; and your beaming eyes 
Dance in their joyousness, and pearly tears 
Of rapturous delight still welcome me. — 

G 



8.2 



Ye bid me soar, and y our impatient wings 

Reflect the lightnings of yon piercing flame. — 

Dragged down, impeded by my earthly stains, 

I yet ascend with ye. — I yet am drawn, 

By supernatural power, upward still : 

And as the earth recedes, that look of love 

Still brighter glows. — I see, I hear, I feel, 

Yet nothing know save that pure radiance. — 

Blot after blot, stain after stain, each speck 

Of deadliest blackness, in the fervid gaze 

Ever disappears. — Impure, I purer grow, 

And night's dense darkness looked on by that sun 

Blazes in noontide splendour. — Ye, who were 

As suns to my o'erdazzled eyes, beam but now a 

stars, 
And yon all-purifying light concentrated 
In me, streams forth upon you. — And yet ye smile. — 
Ye envy not my glory. — Ye rejoice, 
Ye joy in my rejoicing. — Loving once 
An outcast reptile ; love, in increasing strength, 
Increases upon its increase, as I exult 
In the glad glory, and one halcyon cloud 
Of effulgence bears us onward. — Brighter still, 
And brighter, as the living chariot urges 
It's breathless swiftness, in intensity, 
As thousand times ten thousand earthly suns 
Had, in one blaze, combined their fiercest strength 
The keen ebullience deepens : — * * * * 

Veiled by their wings. 



Their glittering crowns downcast, their amaranth 
wreaths 

Strewing the sapphire pavement, their joyous harps 

Vocal with praise ; I hear the songs of angels, jubi- 
lant ; 

And hearing ****** 



Foretaste of bliss : — 
The yet unsatiated hope of joy, 
The faith in my Redeemer's promises 
Sustain me still ***** 

Yes. I have seen, in faith, 
The beatification of my hope. Henceforth I rest 
In confidence assured : — The golden gate 
Yet sways not on its hinge : the bars of light 
Yet leap not from their hold : the flaming bolts 
Yet start not from their sockets : the glad words 
Yet have not filled all Heaven : echoing choirs 
Yet have not raised the everlasting hymn 
Of Moses and the Lamb : and the pure bride 
Yet has not met the Bridegroom : — yet I rest 
Sure in my hope and hopeful in my faith." 



Patriarchs and martyrs, prophets priests and kings, 
A goodliest multitude of goodliest form, 
Each with his censer, each with golden harp 

o2 



81 



And each one gem of purest effluence 

Fill the wide scene of gladness. Harp to voice 

And voice to harp resonant, onward they sail 

In holiest unison : one more denizen 

Has Eden gained, and one more cup of joy 

Is added to their happiness. All love, all peace, 

All joy, all faith, all gladsome gratitude ; 

One heart, one mind, one spirit ; all sufficed 

And none redundant. — In such chair of state, 

Such car of splendour erst the prophet rose 

From Earth to Heaven, and angelic guards 

So honoured, so acclaimed him, yet not with love, 

More holy, more intense. 

These to their rest 
Soar on the blithsome ether ; those to earth 
Again return ; yet, though disparted far 
By realm on realm of space, the bond of truth 
Still intervibrates, and the intellectual sight 
Joys in each triumph hoped, each prize atchieved. 

Reversed his sword of flame, 
In placid majesty the star- girt guardian 
Of Eden's portal sits; in his rejoicing charge 
Rejoicing. 

As the eager hosts pour through, 
Stone unto column answering, hinge unto valve 
Responsive, waking melody, emit 
Subduing sweetness. The enjewelled sward, 



DEATH. 85 

Trees stooping with rich odours, vocal flowers, 

And birds whose thrilling melody the spheres 

Listen to dwell on, with the angel hymn 

Mingle glad melodies, and choral lays 

Float through the ambrosial clouds, respondent all 

In pleasure, and respondent all, 

In palpitating gratitude, as, bending 

At the lowliest altar of Eden, the newly arrived 

Prostrate adores : while, not prostrate, her thoughts 

Ascend beyond the ascents of earthly days, 

And taste the foretaste of Elysium 

From that pure sea of glory, where, supreme 

In his own goodness, dwells the only One 

All true, all holy. Thence he bends 

Downward to Eden, his love-beaming eyes. 
And in his inmost essence, feels a thrill 
Of pleasure in his creature's happiness ; 
And interchange of worship and attention 
Blesses the giver, and the receivers of 
Bliss erst by them unimagined. 



Thus while they 
Cloudless of sorrow, wait until the sum 
Of happiest creatures is realised ; those on earth 
In stupefaction sitting, gaze around 
Where the grave has stretched her spoil, ghastlily 
Smiling her bitter satisfaction; and around 
Nought see but sad mementos. — There they sate 
One leaning o'er her babe,— and, blest as earth 



86 DEATH. 

Gives blessing, garrulous of hopes 

And prospects in futurity, another 

Lived o'er her former days ;— or, there they walked- 

Or there, — and the full cup of happiness recurring 

In exaggerated sweetness, nature sinks 

At the humiliating contrast, and tears choke 

The utterance of grief : — while, clasping close, 

As clasp war-stricken men the slaying lance ; 

Clasps the lone widower, his lone baby-boy, 

Whose unsuspecting prattle recks not the woe 

It causes in it's innocence : 

Alas! 
Poor shadows we, that in another's gain 
Count our own loss. 



87 



RETRIBUTION. 



" Be thy will done. Creator and Sustainer 

Of all Thy works. A speck obscure am I 

In thy unbounded universe, where, orb on orb 

Roll in their destined curvatures, fulfilling 

Thy highest will, joyfully Thee acclaiming 

In measures faultless, as, harmoniously, 

Dimension, weight, nature, and orbit, exactly 

Relate to each other. — Vast are all Thy works. 

Superlatively wonderful, beyond 

The ken of angels ; infinitely good, 

In me in all ; herb, reptile, fish, bird, beast, 

In man, highest of terrestrial beings, worst, far worst 

Of all. Me hast thou charged 

And I have borne him, for that it was Thy charge, 
Stained though I am by his deeds of cruelty, 
Rapine and bloodshed, fraud and violence, 



88 RETRIBUTION. 

Filthy, and hateful, and degrading crime. 

Yet am I, in myself, Thy glorious work, 

Compacted of elements, each inscrutable, 

Each, in itself, perfect. Thankfully to Thee 

I render up a portion of my children, 

Praise, bless, adore thee ; bow in homage down 

Rejoicing in their happiness : submissively 

Awaiting that dread summons, which will to the centre 

Dispart, and from each inmost, dark recess 

Where sin has stained me, as avengingly 

Pluck out the secret fibres of offence. 

Dissolution 
Is to me as renewal, so that it be Thy will." 

Thus, as with voice 
Of clearest utterance, though voiceless, Earth 
Complains against fallen man. 

And he, whose charge 
It is to wield nature's mightier elements, 
In his high station musing, thus replies : 

" No void shall ever be 
In the vast universe : all, mystically, shall 
To all eternity hymn forth His praise. 
Hymning His praises, purified by fire, 
Renewed good and glorious, in His works 
Filling thy station, instrument of blessing 
So shalt thou still exist. Ineffaceably 
'T is written.— Day and night, 



RETRIBUTION. 89 

Summer and winter, never yet have failed, 
Nor shall the word e'er change. — 

A thousand weeks 
Here have I, in most anxious office, served, 
Only sustained by His pervading power, 
Pervading and sustaining all His works. — 
Nations have changed, as fluctuating Avaters, 
One risen, another fallen. Light, progressively 
Has tinged each summit of the rolling mass, 
Or awhile lived embosomed. — Evil, and good, 
Sorely have exercised man's attribute, 
Freedom of thought and action. — Of pure religion 
True revelation came not to succeed 
Corrupted tradition ; until his poor conjecture, 
Futile and weak, unsatisfactory, 
Unholy, infamous, had plunged him down 
A chaos. — ■ Adoringly, 

The holy purpose eagerly have I marked 
Sailing, a lonely ark upon a deluge 
Convulsed, dark, fathomless, impenetrable 
To vision less than almighty. Rejoicingly 
The gleaming beacon have I seen emerge, 
Millions exulting in its brightness, millions 
Amid the rude turmoil safe." 



As ever-lapsing time 
Still in his trackless swiftness, hastens onward 
To the dread, eventful day ; and change after change, 



90 RETRIBUTION. 

Woe after woe, have led the hearts of men, 
Trembling in fearful expectancy, to watch 
In terror for it's dawning, Angel hosts 
Not less intently watch ; upon their guard 
Never sleeping. — 

Silent in his march, 
The Angel of Destruction, discriminatingly, 
Here one, and there another, ceaselessly 
Summons : — and as the numbers thicker falling 
By war, by plague, by famine, visit all 
The nations with extreme perplexity, 
Their Guardian Angels, the Destroyer . 
Entreat. 

THE ANGELS OF THE NATIONS. 

" Reverse, reverse the avenging sword." 

THE DESTROYING ANGEL. 

" Holy Angels, keep your guard." 

THE ANGELS OP THE NATIONS. 

" We, intently looking, stand 
Prompt to obey the mighty hand, 
Which, even now, we clearly trace 

Limiting the human race. 

Mightier events we feebly see 
In dark and dim futurity ; 
But thou, endued with keener eye, 
Canst read that deeper prophecy." 



RETRIBUTION. 91 

THE DESTROYING ANGEL. 

" Yet awhile, offence shall cease. 
Yet awhile, a time of peace 
Shall fill the awful, dreadful pause 
In Retribution's certain laws. 



THE ARCHANGEL OE THE NATIONS. 

Back roll the clouds : intensely bright 

Glow the bounds of infinite 

And finite. — Read the mighty scroll.— 

Through the living letters roll 

Living fires ; fires to consume 

The temple, shrine, and altar-tomb : 

Living fires ; fires to devour 

Each pigmy toil of human power. — 

Fearfully through every line 

See, careers each wondrous sign. — 

Nearer, nearer , see they run. — 

Blaze in lightnings " All is done." 

THE DESTROYING ANGEL. 

"TIME, WAS." 



9.2 RETRIBUTION. 

Silence, — 
A still, calm, clear, terrible silence, as it were, 

audible 
In it's very stillness, universal space 
Holds in appalling thrall, — 

Increasing in it's might, 
As crashing thunders over thunders roll 
Re-echoing ; the Archangel's pealing lip 
Twice, and again, outcries 

"Awake !" 

Filling each interval 
Eagerly-anxious, ministering spirits 
Carol : 

"Wake, oh wake. — Sisters of light, 
Plume your wings, essay your flight ; 
Heavenly love, in mercy bright, 
Wakes you for ever to fresh delight." 

"Awake !" 

" Wake, oh wake. — The fetters are riven, 
Glory and life for ever are given ; 
Glory that gleams like the mystic seven, 
Shrining the throne of the highest heaven. 



retribution. 93 

" Awake ! " 

" Wake, oh wake. — 'Tis a holy choir, 
Honied sounds, and words of fire 
Dwell in their lips : — the strain raise higher; 
See the earthly forms respire, 

Awake ! awake ! " 

And from the yielding earth, 
Eise, in their righteousness, resplendent forms, 
Mortal, yet all but immortal. 

In such a glorious harvest, where shall the reaper 
Bind his first sheaf ? — 

In silence, attentively 
Listen to the awakening accents. — 



the believer [arising from her 

" Morning, opening her dewy eyelids, 
Greets us with music, lovelier than e'er 
Played round the harp-string, lingering ere it fled 
The faery hand that waked it. Purest dews 
Gleam brightly on the leaflets, glittering 
In the glorious sun-beams. Orient gems of light 
All-coloured, sparkle with ten thousand dyes 
Of different temper. Balmiest fragrance 
Drops from the zephyr's wing. Delightful Morning ; 
So fresh, so healthful, so imbued with incense, 
So light, so pure, from thy Creator's presence 



94 RETRIBUTION. 

First didst thou bless the earth. 

Awake, awake, 
Awake, my love : awake, my little one ; 
Baby, awake and gladden your mother's eyes. 
Hark, hark, my love, my life : awake and hear 
That rapturous measure. 'Tis as yet I dreamt 
Of those fair valleys, where eternal youth, 
Eternal infancy, unchanging looks, 
Which, marked as aged, yet more aged grew not 
In ages unnumbered, bade me fondly deem them 
The abode of blessed spirits. — Hark ! " 



THE SONG OF THE GUARDIAN ANGELS. 

" Hail, hail, all hail !— The Day of Grace, 
Wakes to life the human race, 
Life that really ever lives : 
Life that never, never ending, 
Still with blessings, blessings blending. 
Purest joy for ever gives." 

The Believer. 

" The ascending mist 
Bears spiritual forms : the embodying air 
Teems with effulgent imagery; ascending 
All. — Such visions, and such winning harmony 

Bewilder. Deceive me not ; 

Oh, be not treacherous ; my doting eyes, 
Swim not in tears. — My father, my mother 



RETRIBUTION. 95 

Fresh from the bowers of Eden visit me. 
Ethereal fragrance breathes around their forms 
Gem-dropt are their aged tresses, light celestial 
Mildly resplendent, attracts, yet dazzles not, 
Mine eyes towards them. — Oh, awake, awake, 
And thus restrain me not. — Life of my life, 
If ever I was pleasing to thee, wake, my husband ; 
Wake, wake, my child. 

They awaken. — See, my mother, 
Angelical their looks, in majesty 
As first-created man; as Eve's best-born 
When infancy first lisped, and the prattling tongue 
The look interpreted. See, they welcome us, 
They cheer us. — ***** 

Unknown buoyancy 

Lifts me Alas — alas, my mother ! 

Ah me ! I have slept the death-sleep. 

Light breaks upon me. — This eventful dream 

Wakes in reality. — This awful place, 

This gate of heaven, these splendent messengers, 

'Though radiant with seraphic dignity, 

'Though love, 'though kindness, beam in their eyes 

of light 
And play upon their lips — dreadfully 
Announce the Day of final Retribution. 
Alas, how unprepared to meet that Judge 
Which knows the heart." 

Amidst the gladdening scene, 



96 RETRIBUTION. 

In desperate, unrecking malignity. 
Demons to demons, imitative cries 
Of spirits in torment utter. 

THE BELIEVER. 

" Ah me ! Alas, my brother. 
It was a voice like his, but so unearthly 
Is the moan of anguish wicked men uplift 
Despairing upon the death-bed — 

Another cry 
As of one falling down a precipice — 
A stifling shriek — the rushing wind 
Displaced beneath him — the branches crash — 
And the black, poisonous pool 
Bubbles." 



THE ASSAILING. 

" Wail, wail, wail and howl, 
The heart is dark, and the conscience foul." 

THE BELIEVER. 

" Ah me ! O King of Heaven, thou knowest 
Mine inmost soul. Tremblingly hoping, 
Ascending to thy presence, Saviour of Light, 
Have mercy on my darkness." 

THE FIENDS. 

" Mercy shall sleep, and Justice severe, 
Quail not. swerve not for woman's tear." 






RETRIBUTION. 97 

THE GUARDIAN ANGEL. 

" Cheer thee. Be cheered." 

THE CHIEF FIEND. 

" Fine minion, flee ; 
Of the spoil and the prey deprive not me. 
Though swiftly ye sail, 'tis a worthy prize, 
And swiftly as ye shall my legion rise." 

THE FIENDS. 

" We pant, we toil, we strive in vain 
The outskirt of heaven we never shall gain." 

OTHER FIENDS. 

" Envy, malice, revenge, and hate, 
Give us but strength, we fear not defeat." 

THE CHIEF FIEND. 

" Beyond us they soar, but I scent the track 
No sleuth-hound so sure at the wild slave's back. 
Viewless — in mean disgraceful spite 
He strives to blind us with arrowy light." 



THE SONG OF THE GUARDIAN ANGELS. 

Spirits, haste ye, haste to meet us ; 
Angels, Cherubs, kindly greet us. 
"We have watched o'er the charge we tended 
Watched 'till the sleep-of-sleeps has ended. 



98 RETRIBUTION. 

To the Believers. 

Death might seize, hut death retains not, 
Rest like your's the spirit pains not, 
Brighter rise ye, fairer, clearer, 
Beloved of Heaven, than Angels dearer. 

We ne'er sinned, ye, sin despising, 
Greatly o'er the assail are rising; 
Cleansed in Him, whose love prevailing 
"Wept away his creatures' failing. 

Honour, praise, revere, adore him, 
See forms of glory hovering o'er him, 
See angels, veiled, before him bending ; 
Hark ! they the crystal vault are rending 
with Allellujahs." 



Everlasting glories 
Pour seas of light from the dazzling gates of heaven 
Myriads of spirits, resting in blessedness, 
As in an amphitheatre ranged round, 
Look down in eagerness, as the ascending train 
Verge on the threshold steps. 

Before the Lamb, 
Angel, Archangel, Seraph, Cherub, Power, 






RETRIBUTION. 



99 



Dominion, Principality, and Throne j 
Mysterious essences, inconceivable 
By finite intelligence, irradiate 
All inferior splendours. 

Nor word is known, 
Nor terms descriptive yet have been devised 
Faintly expressive of that central light, 
Before which, light itself is dark, impure, 
Vile, outcast. 

At the uttermost limit 
Of the thronged auditory : — the anxious gaze 
Of angels and of men : — single — unstayed, 
And aidless of all aid, save Heaven's, the suppliant 
Tor pardon pleads. 



THE BELIEVER AT THE BAR OF JUDGMENT 

" Penitent, 
Deeply repentant of my secret crimes 
Of thought, word, deed ; hateful, vast, numberless 
At this awful bar, I bow, 
Submissive to thy sentence. — Be thy grace, 



From the Holiest light, 
Vividest effluence, shrine impenetrable 

h 2 



100 RETRIBUTION. 

By created vision ; calmly audible 

The fearful question thrills through shrinking space, 

" WHO WILL REDEEM V 

And One, whose form is as a Son of Man, 

Yet, so exalted, so surpassing all 

The forms of men created, that blasphemous 

Words were to trace his holy lineaments : 

As man, as God, as brother, as Creator, 

All-perfect in his mediatorial character, 

With his merit shields her ; and with looks of love, 

Of pity, and of mercy, as the Atoning Victim, 

Places himself between her and destruction. 



From that obscurest depth, 
Where Earth, in dizzy distance, wheels her round, 
Toiling, the A censing- Spirits climb their way, 
Thus far allowed. — Retreating from the gaze, 
Hang back the meaner crew; but, he whose tempting 
First allured them from their fealty, still first, 
By his false sense of honour, and contempt 
Of danger, onward led; atrociously 
To his rebellion adds insult. 

Satan. 

" Redeem her?— Who? 
Is she not mine ?- — A worthiest company, 



RETRIBUTION. 101 

Greater and fairer, kings, queens, and princes, 
Who ruled and lived as spirits of superior mould : 
Kings in their own right, mighty, master-minds, 
Throned by their own atchievements, as on my throne, 
Await this companion. — Am I thus bound to toil 
Upward, despite of my nature, for that thou pleadest 
A few weak wounds and bruises ? Have not I 
Wounds, bruises, tortures? Have not I that which 

poor 
Effeminate wretches call, my glorious penalty 
Of glorious greatness ?" 

Scoffingly, so speaks he, 
Sidelong in look, in proud, contemptuous tone, 
Daunted, yet daring ; to the Guardian Spirit. 

No higher yet attempts 
His quailing eye to glance. 

Mildly reproving him, 
The Guardian Spirit replies. 

" Him, less than the Highest, 
Yet with the Highest equal, thus permits thee 
In his forbearance. Knoweth none more than thou 
The strength of his anger." 

Satan. 

" Nor none less than thou 
His justice. Only less than the highest, or equal 
As of right were mine ; in essence superior 



102 RETRIBUTION. 

As more enduring. Flatteries and ease 
To worthiest minds are charmless." 

Collecting 
Like a determined criminal, every drop 
Of blood malignant, for a reproachful lie 
Rejoins he. — Forbearing, as she sees 
Forbearance best, aside the Guardian Spirit 
Attentively stands. 

Satan. 

" Me strive not to defraud 
By innocent look, eye downcast, tricking tear, 
Or reverential grovelling. Affection and outside pro- 
priety, 
Connubial, filial, and parental love, 
Bar not my plea : the very birds and beasts 
Had these. These are not such perfections 
As you to man attribute. Nought care I 
For such a flimsy triumph, but to expose 
Your hollow justice strive. — Left in the contest 
What had ensued, if unaided ? — Prate not I 
Of loosest thought, pride, or idolatry 
Of her fair person, of pompous charity, 
Hags, paintings, patchings of external virtues : 
These pass I, lightly, as for my accusation 
Too despicable. — Amongst my host 

Held but one back, from the strife of glorious deeds, 
Disgrace, derision, vilest ignominy 
Were his, for ever. Such is my even justice. — - 



RETRIBUTION. 103 

Foremost stood she, the type, the ideal exemplar 

Of perfect Christian virtues, fervently 

In heart and deed devoted, ever- striving, 

Aye, ceasing never, his deeds to pourtray 

On earth, who here sits Judge. Here was no pride ? 

And by such flattery, sits unwarped her Judge ? — 

So, vauntingly in the van forestationed, 

This was her duty, and she failed herein 

As a very braggart. — When the covert glance, 

And alluring smile, drew incense to her beauty, 

And in her toils a willing captive enthralled : 

One, aye superior, in estate, wit, person 

To the common herd of fools ; on idle pretence 

Of his irreligion, she closed scoffingly 

Affection's gates, and, aye, exulting in 

The triumph of the worm's foul banquet^ 

"Wept falsed tears. — She forsook the fight, 

When, were her Maker loved, body, soul, all, 

Were but meet sacrifice another to rescue 

From The Opponent. — Did not he you laud 

So act, so die ? — But forsooth, was he 

Corrupt, licentious, as her uncharitable imagination 

Had pictured him ; and the too susceptible. 

Warm trust of the heart-strings, was to be rudely 



Upon such pretence as this ! — Nay, minion, nay.- 
We plead before a Judge, who must need be just 
Or adjudicate no longer. Unjust be he, 
All be his equals." 



104 RETRIBUTION. 

With noble scorn, 
Such as possesses one, who assuredly knows 
His adversary consciously conceals 
Portions of truth, and on a garbled fact 
Grounds accusation : repelling the attempt, 
Answers the Guardian Angel. 

" Were not assembled hosts 
Of finite intelligences, hither called from immensity's 
Most distant orbs, to witness the assay 
Of Man, and the proof of his Maker's benignity, 
Waste were my words : for thou, and such as I 
Know motives, treasure up thoughts ; and the dread 

Judge, 
Needs not thy accusation, nor my testimony. — 
Beneath his vengeance, less than our regard, 
Are thy taunts, Satan. — Degenerated, and 
Degenerateable still to all eternity, 
Less and still less, eternally, shalt thou resemble 
Thyself in thy former brightness, when, sun-dia- 

-demed, 
In foulest rebellion, thou the third of heaven 
Round apostate ensigns drewest. 

Hear ye, O Men ! 
And hear ye. Angels ! as I testify 
In the immediate presence of my Maker, 
And by his grace sustained, how steadily, 
In her own strength not trusting, still she clung to, 
And still assistance prayed from Him, whom to be- 
seech 



RETRTBUTIOX. 105 

Is to propitiate. — Worn, and vexed with toiling 

Against the rude surge of adversity. 

And by the world's temptations sorely beset, 

Yet still amidst their pressure, did she strive 

Others to save from danger, other to arm 

Against temptation, others to fortify 

Against impending trial, others to cherish 

Who well nigh had sunk down, and others to raise 

Whom deceivers had subdued. And, yes, she strove 

As with Almighty fervour, to disenslave 

Satan's firm-bounden thralls. — Witness around me, 

ye, 

Who, as my fellow-watchers, warded off 

111 from the sainted head ; who treasured up 

The pure out-pouring of the grateful heart, 

And registered in heaven's archives, deeds 

Which Heaven loves to read. — Unfearingly, 

I here appeal to the true registry 

Of death, of life. — Trace on it's burthened page, 

Crimes, errors, written in tears : but — yes, my friends, 

Exulting, here, upon this ampler scope, 

See virtues graven in characters of light : 

And, witness at it's end, a signature 

Of love, of faith in His redeeming love, 

Through whom the universe, in all it's beauty, 

In all it's majesty, in all it's immensity, 

And perfectness exists." 

The Believer. 

" In all thy deeds, 



106 RETRIBUTION. 

Holy and just art thou. Thy will be done. 



Incomprehensibly, 
Transcending all that seraphic intellect 
In it's sublimest musing, could, incipiently, 
Conceive of self-humiliation ; once, upon earth, 
As but a man, yet perfect in purity ; 
He knew our sorrows, wept our bitter tears, 
Felt our keen anguish, shared our misery, 
And tasted of our death-cup, and wrung out 
The dregs of shame from the grave, illumining 
With glory the vale of death. 

Mysteriously 
God became Man. Far more mysteriously, 
That man, as God of all, above all height 
Beyond all thought, in supremest majesty 
Judging his fellow men, in mercy restrains 
The intensity of his love ; and, 'though that love 
Yearns as a mother's, who her long-lost child 
Sees, blainless, from some lazar issuing, 
He looks around : 

The sun, in mightiest strength, 
Leaping from the torrid wave, throws, flashing o'er 
Each mountain summit, his awakening glow 
While plains lie wrapped in night : so lucidly, 
Amidst surrounding space, assembled worlds 
Of throbbingly attentive spirits rejoice 
In the divine effulgence : — 

Low, he looks 



RETRIBUTION. 107 

Where, outstretched upon heaven's pavement, lies 

his creature 
Submissive in her hope, and in her fear 
Submissive : — 

Where angelic eyes beheld 
A form of earth, in earthly vestiture 
Stands an immortal Seraph. — Angel-eyes 
Glitter through grateful tears ; and angel-lips 
Dwell on her adoration. 

THE WORSHIP OF THE REDEEMED CHRISTIAN. 

" Holy, Holy, Holy, 
Thou art holy. 
In Thee renewed, even in this purity, 
A wonder of angels, a new-born child of heaven ; 
Thy work, thy gracious work;— beneath thy mercy, 
Less than the least of thy perfections, prostrate 
I praise, I worship, I adore Thee. 
Holy, Holy, Holy, 
Thou art holy." 



When, from the cloud, 
The indignant Angel of the Covenant 
In wrath looked down, and an invisible power 
Brake Egypt's chariot wheel, and host confused 
Stumbled o'er host confused, as the last foot 
Stepped from the ocean-bed, and the dry ground 
Received it : so now, a choral shout 



108 RETRIBUTION. 

From all heaven's blissful legions triumphing, 
Ascends.— 



THE HYMN OF THE ANGELIC HOST. 

"Worthy, 
Worthy art thou, 
Worthy art thou, Redeeming Lamb ! to receive 
Power, and honour, and glory. 

Worthy art thou, 
Worthy art thou, for evermore to bear, 
Supremest dominion. 

Worthy art thou, 
Worthy art thou, for evermore to reign, 
God over all, 
For ever." 

Silent the acclaim : — in far inferior strains, 
Strains to yet-infant intellect adapted 
Greet the blest spirits, their Sister. 



THE GREETING BY THE BLESSED SPIRITS. 

" Evermore in honour seated, 
Evermore by angels greeted, 
Glorious, sister spirit, hail. 



/ 

RETRIBUTION. 109 

Bright, in virtue rising higher, 

Glow thy intellectual fire, 

Cleansed from earth's concealing veil. 

Blessing, honour, glory, power, 
Welcome this thy natal hour 
Natal hour of endless day : 
Ever flowing, still unceasing, 
Mercy, mercies still increasing, 
Life no more shall pass away. 

Active virtue still prevailing, 

On some gracious mission sailing, 

We with thee shall ever raise ; 

Songs of triumph, strains of pleasure, 

Love the theme, blest love the measure, 

Love be our's, be His the praise." 



Ascending in her strength 
Amid all brightness, brilliantly distinct 
She greets their congratulation. 



THE REDEEMED BELIEVER S SONG. 

'•' Blissful visions, joys ecstatic, 
Meet my eye, salute my ear ; 
Saints in glory, spirits seraphic, 
Hail my birth, prepare my sphere. 



110 RETRIBUTION. 

Songs melodious, sounds celestial, 
Streams of pleasure, gems of light, 
Bowers of wisdom, realms of wonder, 
Heightless, depthless, infinite, 
All hail me. 

Hail ye, hail ye, Spirits fair : 
Hail ye, hail ye, Sisters dear : 
Hail ye, hail ye, Friends, 

For ever, 

All hail \» 



Enduring, as endure the envious, 
With blanched cheek, and brow enforced to lour 
Over the unsteady eyeball, mutteringly echoes, 
In despite, the Accusing Spirit, melody 
Which tortures. 

As the exultation 
Sinks in repose, and distant murmuring, 
As of village bells at even, kisses the ear 
With soothing undulation : aloud he cries, 
Raising his scathed countenance in scorn, 
And bitter mockery : 

" This, this ye call 
Unswerving justice. — Lately escaped 
Or hoping to escape ; this host, subservient 
Through fear, not love ; with taunts injuriously 



RETRIBUTION. Ill 

Think to annoy me, and to wound a spirit 
Ever unimpressible, above sensation, one 
Who calmly bears, and smiles contemptuously 
At the million's contumely. Such millions hate 
Despises, as I hate Him, close-entrenched in light 
To all inaccessible. — A prouder throne 

Accessible to all, I proudly fill ; 
Shrined in the hearts, firm-rooted in the affections 
Of spirits, each the weakliest, mightier 
In intellect and daring, than the highest here 
Who thinks he blazes. — Hear ye, and blush. 
There look. — There they, in proof of my truth, 
Bear willingly a willing subject, dimming 
Your gorgeous pageantry, and veiling eyes 
Star-born with tears effeminate." 

Back, audaciously 
Summoning up his latest power to chide 
The Being he blasphemes, e're the tremendous, 
Huge bolts of Hell pen him and his crew accursed ; 
As, o'er a war-scooped chasm, some dark tower 
Although tottering, from it's ruined battlement 
Launches vindictive fires ; so, on vacuity's 
Quick-crumbling edge, gloomy, vast, and appalling 
Leans the Arch-Rebel, stubbornly repressing 
Care, rankling-thought, and pain, hourly that marr 
More that original brightness, which, when above 

them far, 
And seated near to the Highest, angels witnessed, 
And in his joy rejoiced. 



112 RETRIBUTION. 

Yet, gnaw his vitals 
Shame for malignity, and deadliest fear 
Of torment, pertinaciously intituled 
Glory and honour, 'though for that sceptre's weight 
No one would stoop ; 'though envying, none would 
share. 



Explosions, stunning 
The curdling senses, sounds unutterably 
Chilling, subduing Nature's faculties, 
Locking the senses, paralysing all 
In stupefying horror : in one wild 
Continuous upwhirl, break into nothingness 
Earth, Sea, and Air : — 

Amidst the tempestuous fray 
Fiends, in mad uproar yelling, incumbent rocks 
Livid with foetid sulphur, hurl on high 
Baring death's dreadful, secret prison-house 
To the fiery concave ; here, ebullient 
With seven-fold furnace heat ; here, lurid, wan, 
Blood-stained, appalling : there, hoarsely roaring 
Like fierce Trolhaetta's headlong water-rush, 
'Whelming the lone canoe- borne wanderer 
Caught in it's boiling eddy. 

Hurtling hail 
Of scalding embers, snow of torrid flame, 



RETRIBUTION. 113 

Spouts of bitumen, hellish fires, exceeding 
All that the cruelty-nursed mind conceives, 
Incessantly falling. 

Death's noisome, mantling pool, 
Scaffold and Gibbet : Couch of luxury : 
Prison and Pesthouse : and the Gilded tomb, 
Mocking at death, o'er the rottenness within 
Grinning, pour forth their draff. 



SONG OF THE DEMONS. 

1 This is the grave ; I quaffed it's steam 
Blotting the wan moon's sickly beam : 
The clotting gore, and the clammy dew, 
Stank and steamed on the baleful yew. 

It whined, it moaned : the finger and thumb 
Clutched the wind-pipe ; the dead was dumb : 
Darkness, in terror, darker grew ; 
Silence shall bear me witness true. 

Grin ye, and glare ye. Hark ! I hear 
The infidel curse, and the Atheist swear. — ■ 
Curse they bravely, and swear they well ; 
There is no God in the depths of hell. 

There I, and I, and I, and I, 

Sail on the moan, and ride on the cry : 



114 RETRIBUTION. 

Wailing our car, and the shriek our steed, 
Anguish and torture wing our speed. 
But hark, but hark ! — Now hang we aloof, 
We hung the warp, but he shot the woof : 
"lis in deadly record the tissue we twine 
When man stains with blood the venomous line/ 



the apostate. Leaping from his grave. 

" Wine, — pour, pour more wine. — 
Drink deep in Lethe. — Curse upon the cup, 
And ye, mad harlots, why scream ye ?" 

VICIOUS FEMALES. 

" Rocks, mountains, . 
Fall upon and bury us \" 

AN EMACIATED FEMALE BEARING A FROZEN CHILD. 

" Be righteous, Heaven. 
Though I must fall : Oh, spare not, spare not 
My vile seducer. Spare not him whose oath 
Bobbed me of virtue, and to the bitterest woe 
Of starving penury, in my extremity 
Outcast me. — Bevelling, surfeiting, 
Wallowing, while I, to the biting air, 
Uncanopied by aught but the rude storm 
That howled my obsequies, brought forth my shame, 



RETRIBUTION. 115 

And in death cradled it. — My baby boy, 

Hold up to heaven, thy injured, innocent hand, 

And thy progenit6r, curse." 

THE FIENDS SIEZE HIM. 
THE APOSTATE,; 

" Unhand me ! Demon if thou art 
Unhand me ! I am thy master-spirit still. 
Loathed wretches ! Grin ye as ye will, 
Point at me, hoot me, yell, sputter, gibber, 
Mock me. — Off wretches ! I am greater than ye all 
And in this turmoil but a momentary thrill 
Endure." 

THE FIENDS. 

" Upward, upward." 

THE APOSTATE. 

" I stir not." 

THE FIENDS. 

" Then we drag you, spoil and prey 
Of HelFs dread arbiter." 

THE EXULTATION OF THE DEMONS. 

" Drag we, drag we the weary load, 

'Tis a long, long way to the bright abode : 

Goad we, goad we the victim on, — 

He quicker will fall to the burning throne 

Ha-ha, ha-ha ! 
i2 



116 RETRIBUTION. 

The groan, and the gasp, and the shriek, and the sigh 
Give us firm wings to bear us on high : 
The smeared knife, and the crimsoned pall, 
And the putrid brains on the dungeon wall. 
Drag we, drag we the weary load, 
'Tis a long, long way to the bright abode : 
Goad we, goad we the victim on, — 
He quicker will fall to the burning throne. 

Ha-ha, ha-ha ! 

The oath, and the curse, and the evil wish, 
The smile, and the vow, and the seasoned dish : 
The philtre, the ring, and the priest, straw -built, 
A.nd the triumphing grin of consummated guilt. 
Drag we, drag we the weary load, 
'Tis a long, long way to the bright abode : 
Goad we, goad we the victim on, — 
He quicker will fall to the burning throne. 

Ha-ha ! ha-ha ! 

The chalice despoiled, and the temple stained, 
The oath of the altar and shrine profaned ; 
The Book of Heaven in grave-dust trod, 
And the curse denying the being of God. 
Drag we no more, the storm is strong, 
Hot are the steams that impel us along ; 
Tempest and whirlwind are zephyred air 
To the cry of revenge, and the shriek of despair. 

Ha-ha ! ha-ha V 



RETRIBUTION. 117 

In the foul triumph, triumphing, the Arch Fiend, 
Thus taunts the Apostate's guardian. 

Satan. 

" Aye, minion, aye. 
Veil up that golden frontlet, and with eyes 
Suffused, bend down. — At the high arbitrement 
Of him, who in the loathing air was held 
Of heaven and earth unworthy, yet who dare not 
Gainsay me ; shame-melted, unwatchful spirit, 
My subject do I claim. — Mutely dost thou stand? 
So stood not I, when, in despite, perforce 
His sister was unrighteously borne off 
To stall and stable with ye." — 

" Upward rise, 
Minutes and hours : — day, weeks, years, ascend 
And on your shadowy volumes bear along 
The imperishable record." — 



Prom the dun, obscure, fleet by 
The now-unforgotten moments, each on her disc 
Pourtraying crimes, pourtraying pleasures, 
Pourtraying miseries : — and, as if the thunder-peal 
Of a reproaching conscience were not loud 
Enough to startle hell, the bitter Accuser 
Gives to each his bitter commentary. 



118 RETRIBUTION. 

" Upon that orb 
Mark the mad pleasure of the midnight swill, 
And rank debauch. Estates and families 
Staked on a die ; and ruin, gaunt as death, 
Whelming whole villages. 

On that twin-circlet see 
Stretched on the bullioned couch, whose regalry 
Mocks the foul form which fills it ; he, who, trembling 
At the last death-gasp, and as a coward cursed, 
Died praying amidst your scoffs. 

There, there, behold 
My army. Mine in riot revelry, 
Quaffing the dank dew of the filthy forms 
Which greeted the sun's uprising. 

There, I see 
And, seeing I exult. There, ruin made 
One kingly swoop. There, in that prison-house, 
Yoked to disease, fast-linked to certain death, 
On the straw-matted floor, that creditor 
Whose unrequited labour, gnawed the sinew, 
And fretted up the nerve, sits motionless, 
While famine fevers mother, wife, and child. — 
Upon it's reverse, see the proffered gold 
Of the rich debtor, striving to allure 
His daughter.— These are triumphs, these 
All praise o'erpass. 

And yonder, — there I see 
Mortgage, and sale, and pledge, and legal art, 
Burn trees, waste acres, crumble palaces, 
Strip from progenitors their pittances, 



&ETRIBUTI0N. 119 

Pillage the sister of her marriage-gold, 
And on the dice-turn nobly stake it all, 
And lose it all, as nobly. 

Oh, to read 
These quickly-wheeling shadows, substanced, 
Moulded of fleeting nothing into books 
Of veriest record, would beguile us of 
Whole lives of transport. 

Sober-pacing age 
Has gently grieslied the front-bald head, 
And the lank limbs stretch on the listless couch, 
And the hard-griping, gay voluptuary, 
Husbands his gold, and pleasures : preying there 
Where he was preyed on, and exchanging freaks 
Of youth, for manlier virtues, manlier thoughts, 
And systematized conduct. In the world, 
That censurer unkind, considerately 
Bowing to laws and customs, walking staidly, 
And treasuring indulgence for his few 
Compeers most trusted. 

Such consummate worth 
Bears fruit commensurate : Behold thy Son." 

THE APOSTATE 

" Who, who, who ? 
Sounds like to mine ! — that vile, demoniac look 
As mine, degraded." 

Satan. 

"Worthiest among worthiest deeds 



120 RETRIBUTION. 

Was this achievement : not strengthening me 
By units but armies pouring into my ranks, 
Age after age. 

And there, behold thy wife. 
Attenuated sylph-like by thy kindness." 

THE APOSTATE. 

" Alas, alas, my wife ! 
Of fortune despoiled, by sophistry deprived 
Of her father's faith, and by these hands out-turned 

To beggary. There, there my sister bends 

O'er the poor wanderer, smooths down her couch, 
Pillows her weary head, and pouring balm 
And oil into her wounds, draws light and life 
From on high to the sinner's death bed. — 

Woe, woe, woe ! 
To me unutterable ; eternal woe ! 
There raves my child ! — torn, from his mother torn 
And by me — left^no — not only left 
A prey, but by me plunged into depths, 
Drearily horrible. 

Woe, woe ! — Alas ! 
What scenes of terror pour incessantly 
Upon the accusing moments ! — Poverty — 
Wretchedness— crime — within the dungeon pent — » 
Dying in lazars — on the gibbet hanging 
For crows and vultures — with diseases pining 
Poisoned — slain — drown ed — 

Oh, direst agony ! 
That these, from these polluted loins sprang forth, 



RETRIBUTION. 121 

And living, lived accursed, died accursed, 
And thus rise up ! — 

But — I know not these — - 
These were not mine. — Upon that river's brink 
I strewed not putrid, starving carcases — 
That land with misery I did not fill — 
I did not burn those cities — I bound not, 
I crammed not in that pestilential hold 
My fellows. — In yon yawning wave 

I whelmed them not — 

There, there, — 
Fresh miseries rise — hide, hide me ! — Wrath on 
wrath !"— 

Satan (to the Guardian Angel.) 

" Fine minion, dimly 
Thy glories vanish. Set upon such guard 
Why slept thou?" 

Veiling o'er her forehead 
Wings, dropt with azure, lowlily bows down 
The Guarding Spirit, worshipping : 



" Thou, my Creator ! Thou, 
Preserver of all good : — only enduring 
Evil to show forth thy justice : — knowest thou 
As knowing all, how sedulously hope 
Was cherished in me : how still I clave to, 
Still watched, unweariedly, to baffle the arts 



122 RETRIBUTION. 

Beneath which he fell ; avoiding not my charge 
'Till, in dread moment, throwing off thy fear, 
Thee he defied." 

With deadliest despair 
Sore-smitten : o'er the ashy-hued cheek, 
Paleness, quick-varies into paler hues. 
Upon the burning orbit, glazing films, 
Into their sockets bind, the else-starting 
And livid eyeballs : and in the furred mouth 
The parched tongue, inarticulately, 
Rattles, as, slowly moving, with involuntary 
But irresistible impulse round, the Apostate sees 
In ever-living radiance, spirits pure 
(Shorn of their lustre now) in pitying tears 
Bewailing ; and amongst them, marked 
By deeper shades of sadness, parents, and sister, 
And them-rescued victims, bending, as though their 

knees 
Grew to the crystal pavement. 

" Hide," he cries, 
" Hell, hide me : Hide me in thy inmost tortures ! 
Hide me from His benevolent aspect 
Whose goodness is, torment intolerable." — 

Down he plunges, — laughter horrible, 
And shouts of derision following. 



EETRIBXJTION. 123 

Gazing transfixedly, 
All eye, all ear, o'er the dark, viewless strand, 
Kinsmen hear kinsmen struggling, and the gloomy 
Storm-Spirit echoes, through the moaning surge, 
The expiring mariner's gasp. 

More awful than their lone wailing ; 
More infinitely sad, complaining more mournfully, 
More utterly desolate in their cadences, deep throbs 
Of sorrow gush amid the lament. 

THE LAMENTATION OF THE ANGELS. 

ft "Worthy, worthy to have been, 
Our friend, our companion, 
Firmly hadst thou stood 
Trusting in Him, 
Who, sitting beyond the ken 
Of angel eyes, 
Glows in ineffable glory, 
Yet scorns not 
To dwell in virtue's bosom ; 

How art thou fallen ! 

Goodliest in human form 
And mental majesty ; 
In knowledge, dazzlingly 
Resplendent : 
Yet, in mad despite, 
Each perfect gift, 



124 RETRIBUTION. 

Each heaven-proffered virtue, 
Fatally scorning ; 
Far beneath the vilest 

How art thou fallen ! 

Sunken irremediably 

In wretchedness unending ; 

Outcast, abandoned, 

Ever, ever lost : 

O'er thee unavailingly 

Drop pitying tears. 

Eeveringly we adore 

His justice unswerving, 

Yet weep thy final doom : 

O, Son of Lucifer, 
How art thou fallen \" 

Satan, 

" Millions, 
Millions of these are mine ; beyond thy grasp 
Thou Highest [" 

But the impious exultation 
Dies on his lip. — Withering beneath the keen 
Avenging glare ; like the tumultuous wreck 
Of lightning-riven mountains : swiftly, as 'fleetest swift- 
ness 
Were trembling hesitation to such flight : 
Down, into interminable depths, 
For ever, 
He falls. 



125 



THE RENOVA TI O N 
OF THE EARTH. 



An emanation, 
As 'it were a look benign, wherein 
Compassion, mercy, and love, hold kindliest strife 
For noblest mastery ; from that bright point, 
That centre, whence unnumbered radiations 
Would embrace the boundary, could boundary be 
Of infinite; pervading the awful chaos 
Of uttermost ruin, from impalpable 
Untraceable nothingness, with power beyond 
The utmost stretch of created intellect 
To conceive it's slightest effort ; beneficently 
The void refills. 

Forms of embodied light, 
Seraph tmd cherub, angel, mortal mind 



126 THE RENOVATION. 

Now shrined in immortality, o'erhanging, 
Intently gaze, as the stupendous work 
Re-rises into existence. 

Sweeping round 
From the obscure centre, vast tracts of substances 
Rock, earth, or metal, up to the dewy dawn 
In goodliest order emerge. In radiation, 
Rear up majestic mountains their fair foreheads, 
Collecting from the immensity of pure, 
Elastic fluid, fertilizing treasures, 
And, with benevolent pleasure, pouring down 
In rill, and cataract, and refluent flood, 
Plenty and blessing, over swelling hill 
Wide spread champain, and undulating down. 
In glad moeander idle they to enjoy 
The faery pasture ; and in their lucid mirrors 
Paint visioned forms of ever-varying flowers, 
Enamelling their margents ; of verdant forests 
Hung with all fruits adapted to gratify 
Immortal senses ; and cerulean hues 
Of hills at ethereal distance, sleeping in the calmness 
Of heaven's enjoyment. Linger they amid such bliss, 
Or gladly hasten down descending curves 
Deep-dyed with pebbles of all lustrous hues 
Out-vying gems of purest effluence : 
Or, murmuring, responsive to awakening echoes 
In the dim hollows of dim rocks, o'erpending 
To view their ample frontlets in the clear waves 
Where innocence and mirth, with joyous urns 



THE RENOVATION. 127 

Swell the swift eddy, on the bubble ride^ 

Or lave their blithe limbs in a purer joy 

Than earlier nature knew. In Ocean's wide, 

Capacious universe, where wonders wonder-enlinked 

In hollow orisons, lift up their voices 

To praise and to adore ; the gambolling floods 

Dash deeply in enjoyment, carolling 

Amidst the wild, melodious rush. Lithe forms, 

Where beauty fitliest sits, enthroned in adaptation 

For fullest happiness, the transparent deep 

Shoot through in frolic joyance, tasting fruits . 

Of liquid amber. Coral and coralline, 

And sapphire rocks, and orient shells effulgent, 

And pearly sand, and gems of glittering light, 

And treasures of rich treasures, pave a path 

Where wisdom, youth, and innocence, may rove 

Eternally rejoicing, eternally 

Collecting food for praise. O'er hill and dale, 

Deep valley, craggy mount, where Iris strains 

Her curtains ; o'er arid, or moistened plain, 

Each in it's order, each contributing 

To swell the universal harmony, 

Bird, beast, and reptile revel. Peace and love, 

Mutually assisted, mutually gratified, 

Hang on each other's looks, or sleep in bland, 

Confiding pleasure. Every inanimate, 

And animated creature, each in itself 

Consummately perfect, each in due gradation 

Advancing towards the Unutterable Perfection, 

Each manifesting power, wisdom, and love ; 



128 THE RENOVATION. 

In ever-rising chorus, note from note 
Distinctly audible, yet mingling in one rich 
O'erpowering burst of gratitude, awake 
A correspondent gratitude in all 
The unbounded infinite.— 



THE SONG OF THE MORNING-STARS. 

" Momentary was the pause, 
Everlasting are our laws. 

In thy destined course revolving, 
Every shading mist dissolving, 
Sparkling in the noon-tide beam, 
Gem of Heaven's diadem, 
Roll, roll on, thou lovely orb. 
Momentary was the pause, 
Everlasting are our laws. 

Embellishing the azure night 
Glows thy renovated light ; 
Twining in continuous zone 
Beams thy tributary moon : 
Blest abode of spirits blest, 
Seat of pleasure, couch of rest,, 
Roll, roll on, thou lovely orb. 
Momentary was the pause, 
Everlasting are our laws. 



THE RENOVATION. 129 

Swell the hallowed symphony, 

Voice and soul of harmony. 

Raise in accents soft and clear 

Strains which Heaven may stoop to hear. 

As the vocal chords respire 

In accordance with the quire 

Roll, roll on, thou lovely orb. 

Momentary was the pause 

Everlasting are our laws. 

Praise we Him, whose praise to sing 
We revolve in complex ring. 
Infinitely on infinite 
Verging still, still infinite 
In wonder, wonder still beholding 
Newer wonders still unfolding 
Roll, roll on each lovely orb. 
Momentary was the pause, 
Everlasting are our laws." 



THE SHOUT OF THE SONS OF GOD. 

" Ever watchful — Ever powerful — 
Ever present — Ever knowing — 
Centre — boundary — end — beginning — 

Where Thou art brightest, there is Heaven, 
Where obscurest, vales of woe. 



130 THE RENOVATION. 

Ever renewing — Never wearying — 
Blessing still and still sustaining — 
God of God, and Lord of Lord — 
Holy, just, and true, art Thou." 

The genial joy 
Systems from systems, as they nearer confine 
On The Eternal Splendour, the melodious song 
Kaise higher ; 'till the universal peal 
All heaven's immortal essences prolong 
In numbers mystical, for grosser ear 
Too subtle, too surpassing. 



In the glad concord glows. 



WHERE IS GOD? 

Not in the dark, the fearful deep, 
Nor in the dense-blue sky, 

Nor in the wild, the howling storm, 
Nor in the whirlwind's cry ; 



WHERE IS GOD. 131 

Nor on the raist-enshrouded mount, 

Nor on the horizoned plain, 
Nor in the centre-piercing cleft : — 

Ye seek, ye seek in vain : 
Nor height, nor depth, nor limit known, 
Mark his sublime, mysterious throne, 

Yet, God is every where. 



Not in the awful void profound, 

Leaping from sun to sun, 
Grasping all heaven in one wide range, 

Threading each mazy zone, 
Can the untired, exhaustless soul 

Sweep one star-teeming plain 
And say, " there dwells the Only One ;' 

Ye seek, ye seek in vain : 
System, nor sun, nor world is known 
Where glows his everlasting throne, 

Yet, God is every where* 



And, from the microscopic space 

Where embryo atoms lie, 
Where the strained eyeball strives in vain 

To pierce the mystery ; 
As from the ever-countless hosts 

That gem the ethereal plain, 
One still, clear, voice, resistless cries, 

" Ye seek not here in vain : 

2 k 



132 WHERE IS GOD. 

Here are his wonders, here his might, 
Open, revealed to human sight, 
For, God is every where/' 



And, streaming from the dreamy cave 

Scarcely instinct with life, 
And from the gorgeous, torrid realm 

With nature's glories rife ; 
From all the rich, exuberant earth, 

From the all-teeming main, 
Rises one universal shout ; 

" Ye seek not here in vain ; 
Here are his wonders, here his might, 
Open, revealed to human sight, 

For, God is everv where." 



He, from the unsparing, iron fangs, 

Of cruelty and woe, 
Leads mercy, and bids righteousness, 

In holiest transport glow : 
Justice, and truth, and light, and life, 

Here raise, in holiest strain, 
One full, harmonious, deathless shout, 

" Ye seek not here in vain : 
Even hence, from this bleak, desert shore, 
Joy, hope, and peace exulting soar, 

For God is every where." 



WHERE IS GOD. 133 

And here, revealed to human sense, 

Intangible, unseen, 
Verging on sight, close to our grasp, 

Within the living scene 
Of his conspicuous providence, 

We see his footsteps plain : 
Burning in faith, convinced, assured, 

We seek not here in vain : 
In all his wondrous works confest, 
Wisdom, and power, and love attest, 

That God is every where. 



Considering tliat, even if I were remotely acquainted with the 
peculiar Art of Dramatic Composition, the following subject 
must be, in itself, quite unfit for scenic representation ; I have 
treated it as a work to be read, and only to be realized, men- 
tally. 

I have endeavoured to pourtray the high-minded, patriotic, 
and devoted chieftain, and his daughter, in accordance with the 
beautifully natural sacred narrative. I have, in the fiction, ex- 
posed their constancy to such trials as might have occurred ; 
and have endeavoured to contrast them with such characters, 
as should render them more prominent : and I hope that, the 
recorded incidents, have been introduced appropriately to the 
times, and without violence to the historical facts; and that 
they are clothed in not very ill-adapted language. 

With what success ? — 



JEPHTHAH. 



a Mttd) lax 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



PERSONS. 



JEPHTHAH. 

OTHNIEL. 

ASAHEL. 

GALEED. 

MATTATHA. 

ITHRA. 

KALED. 

MAHUDATHA. 

ELROTHAN. 

WARRIORS AND PEOPLE. 

THE HIGH PRIEST. 

HADASSAH. 
AZUBAH. 
PENINAH. 
MAACHAH. 
VIRGINS. 



137 



MIZPEH OF GILEAD. 



PEN1NAH, KALED, AND OTHER ISRAELITES, LYING 
UPON THE GROUND IN SACKCLOTH. 



1st. Here meet we, stealing from our hiding places, 
As worried wild beasts hemmed by hunters round, 
Galled and distressed. No kindly ray of hope 
In this dark, loathsome depth of desolation 
To cheer us on. 

2d. Alas, alas, my child ! 

3d. Alas, my father ! 

4th. I, by thirst impelled, 

Crept with my starving, emaciated daughter 
To the foetid, miry pool : from my weak grasp, 
They tore her : 

5 th. All, all my children, 

My wife, my parents, sleep in forgetfulness. 
No blood of mine flows in a kindred vein. 

6th. All mine still live ; living, yet in the clench 



138 JEPHTHAH. 

Of griping famine. Dim, shadowless spectres, 
Scarcely human forms, they pick from the cleaving 

earth, 
Offal and refuse. 

A corpse is borne across. A maniac preceding it. 

maniac Bring in rich venison. It is a goodly morsel, 
We banquet with proud revelry and riot. 
We hold a banquet with the full round worm : 
I am the giver of the feast. Right welcome. 
Most welcome. Sit ye. 

Another corpse borne across : one mourner following it. 

mourner. The first and last-born, mingle in one grave. 
They rest in peace. 

ITHRA, MATTATHA, GALEED, MAHUDATHA, enter. 

ithra. And I too, now have laid 

My first, my last born, in the last dreary home. 
Ye have reproached me, when my earnest voice 
Implored ye to forsake those bestial gods, 
Gods made in pride, in scorn, in discontent ; 
That pain, and hunger, and the piteous wailing 
Of friends, of kindred urged me. Now I know not 
Kindred or friend. Nought but my country's wel- 
fare 
Prompts me to bid ye seek to outcast Jephthah. 



JEPHTHAH. 139 

galeed. Will Jephthah aid us ? 

mahudatha. Vindictively will he 

Reject us. Can Jephthah pardon ? 
Will the dog forget his currish nature ? 

itbra. I then defended him, 

Unhappily but only by my words 
When ye attacked with weapons. I with you 
In tears of blood have wept those violations, 
And I with you in lowliest abasement 
Will beg— 

mattatha. Mattatha begs not so, 

Though sword nor spear were found throughout our 

land 
Our passions should be swords, despair our leader, 
And naked bosoms laugh to mockery 
The tyrant's corslet. 

ithba. Mattatha, thy wife, 

Thy newly betrothed, thy fondly cherished wife 
Is at Ammon's mercy. Galeed, thy little ones 
Have but one last, one scant, one noisome meal, 
Thy pining parents wasted to skeletons 
Vainly implore the pitying hand of death. 

galeed. Jephthah, and death, and vengeance, are but 
words 
Of one sad import. 



140 JEPHTHAH. 

mahubatha. Will he be far more merciful than 
Amnion ? 
Will he not pluck your children from the breast ? 
Will he not pour them into the lap of slaughter, 
And surfeit death with mangled carcases ? 

peninah. Out wretch ! that darest not look upon 
the man 
Thy serpent tongue defames. 

kaled. Man of Belial ! 

Forget one moment thy perversity. 

mahudatha. Go in, go in : doting garrulity 
111 fits a time of warfare. 

peninah. Boastful tongues, 

Lessen valour's credit. Not so the traduced 
Was wont to speak ; and, from his cradle upward, 
Though ever conscious of his native worth, 
None ever called him vain. In the midst of mirth 
There was a moody wildness marked him out 
As fit for noblest deeds. Breathlessly 
He heard my tales of Deborah, and Barak, 
Ehud, and Gideon. In his flashing eye 
Defiance gleamed. The daring brow was knit, 
The lips compressed, the eager hand close clenched, 
And firm, yet tremulous, his rigid frame 
Fixed in abstraction, marked the intensity 
Of his generous ardour. I foresaw him then 



JEPHTHAH. 141 

Proud, noble, great, the Israelitish prince, 
Conqueror of Kings. When ye maliciously, 
Pray heaven forgive ye ! — When ye taunted him, 
And chased him like an accursed Gentile dog, 
He told me ; they were memorable words, 
And I have cherished them as choicest gems, 
" I never, never, never will requite it." 

mahudatha. Go in, go in, and make your peace with 
heaven : 
Earth will not hear your babbling on the morrow. 

peninah. And therefore speak I while it is, to-day. 

ithra. The dregs of life are wasting; all our hopes, 
Each after each have vanished, like the mockery 
Of water in a desert. Jephthah alone 
Stands like a mountain in a parched plain. — 

ma-ttatha. To crush us while imploringly we seek 
A shelter within it's shadow. 

mahudatha. Living by plunder, 

A robber and an outlaw, one who delights 
In reckless rapine, like the tiger rioting, 
Swilling to the full of vengeance. 

peninah. Man of Belial ! 

A woman calls thee, Liar. From my breast 
The milk of mercv nursed him. Go to him 



142 JEPHTHA.H. 

Mattatha, Galeed ; go, your dying children, 
Your famishing wives implore ye. See around 
O'er all yon blackened wilderness, like a swarm 
Of locusts resting, Philistia's 
And Ammon's hosts are spread : the morrow's sun 

will see us 
Gnawn, burnt, and blasted. Go to your brother, 
Kneel to him, sue to him ; tell him, earnestly tell 

him, 
Plead to him that ye have, in penitence, 
Turned to your God, have prayed, have wept to him, 
Have overturned the altars, hewn down the groves, 
Have stamped the demon images into dust. — • 
Go to him, Ithra, and, my life for yours, 
The God of Heaven will pour into his spirit 
Resolute will and superhuman strength 
To save us. — Go to him, Ithra, go. 

ithra. In sternest mood, 

Rough as the mountain torrent, Liberty 
Lights her fierce flame. He like a beacon placed 
On the mountain crest, points to us wanderers 
The path of safety. 

one of the people. Alas, alas, my child ! 

another. Alas, my brother ! distress and misery, 
Anguish and torment ! oh, alas my brother ! 

ithra. Were he vindictive, were he sanguinary, 



JEPHtfHAH. 143 

Did he delight in misery, were the wreck of famine 

His blithesome jest, and did his revelling bands 

Dance to the groans of Israel, yet he has 

A child which draws him from the scene of blood. 

The stern, relentless passion of the sire 

Is softened by her impassioned gentleness : 

His proud, severe, unbending bigotry, 

Blended with her enthusiastic zeal, 

And high conceptions of our destiny, 

Is but a slight, a pardonable excess. 

He acutely feeling, earnestly resenting 

All we have done, yet she, imbued with love, 

With strong attachment to her father-land, 

Must make him our defender, our avenger. 

Aggression, daunted by her angel tongue, 

Sinks in submission. Pleading to his soul, 

Persuasively adapting all her tones, 

Her silver tones of pity, she will mould him 

Even in despite of hatred, even though revenge 

Stretched out our throats, and bade him feast to the 

glut: 
She, she will bid him save us. 

mattatha. But a frail hope. 

galeed. Yet let us not, in this our shipwrecked state, 
Pass the last friendly lichen, that from the roek 
Hangs down to aid us. 

peninah. Galeed, beg for us. 



144 JEPHTHAH. 

galeed. Hopelessly hoping, we appeal to him. 

mahudatha. Hopes not Mahudatha. Nor would he 
hope. 

[They pass out.~\ 
THE LAND OF TOB. 

HADASSAH AND AZUBAH. 

azubah. How sweet from the commanding, towering 



Of this fair mount, to see the laughing sun 
Rush like a joyous hunter to commence 
His ardent course : to taste the breath of morn 
Perfumed with odours of ten thousand flowers : 
To mark his slant beam gleam upon the high 
Majestic cedars, and their tribute arise 
As incense, mingling with the exuberant mirth 
Of the gay chorister, whose whole soul fills 
His music. Sweet 'tis to stand upon the tip 
Of breathless expectation, listening still, 
Mutely attentive to the rustling leaves 
Which tell-tale of our footsteps. — — 

Nay, nay, no more 



JEPHTHAH. 145 

Of this idle musing. — Vacuity 
Were a glad lover at such eager gaze. 

hadassah. Poor wretched Israel ! How they in terror 
steal 
Cringing, and creeping> slinking through black ra- 
vines 
As guilty ghosts, while Amnion's flaunting banners 
Dance gaily in the sun's broad, golden light, 
And the sharp cymbals ring. Oh that they rung 
His death-peal ! O ! that the God of mercy 
Would waken Israel's soul, would bow their stub- 
born knees, 
Would from their bosoms tear the heart of stone, 
And humble them in penitence. Foul, foul idolatry ! 
Dire, deadly demon ! 

azubah. Nay, Hadassah, nay. 

This moodiness will sear your faculties. 

hadassah. Oh that the poisonous, the polluting stain 
Which reeks to Heaven for vengeance, were not our. 
Our dear, our cherished sin. Israel, Oh Israel ! 
My poor, unhappy country ! wretchedness 
And misery, and woe, and pain, and death, 
Have hurled thee down, have linked thee in their 

fetters, 
Have bound thee to thy God : — -yet hast thou snapped 
The merciful constrainers ; hast, like a high, 
A full-fed horse, burst from thy plenteous stall. 



146 JEPHTHAH. 

And stung with furious madness, hast thrown down 
And trampled upon thy master. — Would, would that 

I could 
Upon thy faithful bosom weep to death, 
If tears could save my country. But — but to you 
But — but to Othniel, dare I thus outpour, 
My consuming sorrow. Would, would that my 

father 
Could once, could for one little moment, once for- 
get— 
Oh I would plead, as our forefather pleaded 
For the guilty cities.- — You have borne with me, 
And I am calm, as this ethereal calmness. 
Had sunk into my bosom. 

azubaeu We spake of merriment but yesterday. 

hadassah. Mirth is a holloAV mocker at such griefs,. 
And yet I must be mirthful, although my heart, 
Eevolts against the seeming. 

azubah. There shall yet be days of mirth,. 

There shall be shout, there shall be revelry. 
The darkest hour of night precedes the rising 
Of the glad sun : the chilliest, piercing hour 
Waits ever upon the day-break : and the blithe, 
Eich carol of the morn-bird, bursts from the deepest, 
Intensest silence. Even now the naming orb 
Has with his bright glow, chased the ebon shade, 
And the pure rose, bathed in the morning dew 



JEPHTHAH. 147 

Gleams like a bride in tears of happiness. 

hadassah. And that suit's holiest light, 

First, loveliest, and most blessed of God's works, 
Dashing the full cup from the dreamer's lip 
Wakes up yon slave to gnawing misery. 
He sees no brilliance, hears no melting music 
Though earth's ten thousand voices swell the peal 
Of joyous melody. His seared faculties 
Drink them all in, but to corrode his soul, 
And fester in his heart. One drear, dead blank 
To him are heaven and earth. Cut off, cut off 
From all the sweet amenities of life, 
He has no commerce with the free-man's joy, 
He has no commerce with the free-man's hope, 
He has no commerce with the free-man's high, 
Majestic bearing. Degradation sits 
Cowering upon him. If, in moody rage 
He dare assert man's natural dignity, 
The whirling lash sounds in his shrinking ear, 
The galling fetter cankers his rankling wound, 
And into madness tortures him. Or if subdued, 
Crushed, trampled, spurned upon ; — he thinks, speaks, 

acts, 
As act, think, speak his masters ; has nor hand, 
Nor foot, nor tongue, nor eye, nor sense, nor soul ; 
But, bond-slave all ; blood, bones, and sinews, all 
Die in the bond-slave's brand ; and the first hour 
That robs him of his freedom, drags him down, 
And stamps him, reptile. — Oh, my bleeding country ! 



148 JEPHTHAH. 

Such, such is Israel. — Israel rebelled, 
Israel threw off the light yoke from his neck, 
Yoke bent in mercy, and in blessing bound ; 
And riot ran. Mad in the hot pursuit, 
Enfuriate in license, wild in misrule, and fierce 
As thousand thousand demons broken loose 
Red-reeking from penal fire. — God's yoke was hard, — 
God's yoke was heavy — God's yoke fretted them. — 
Yokes of their own they made, soft, polished yokes, 
Yokes to be snapped like willow wands, or wreathed 
Into ten thousand fancies. — Aye, they took to them 
Gods — such as men make.— Gods — whose abhorrent 

crimes 
Ensanctified their own.— The God of Day; 
The Holy Queen of Heaven, Mother of Gods 
And men, — all Syria's Gods, all, all the Gods 
Of Sidon, Moab, Ammon, Philistia, 
Swart Egypt's spurious, impure progeny, 
Linked with proud Nimrod's fables. — Lightsomely 
They swam in the voluptuous dance, and blithe- 

somely 
Struck their loud-ringing cymbals ; right joyously 
They swilled the bewildering cup ; and franticly 
Leaped, shrieked, sang, shouted, as the hungry fire 
Of Moloch ate up their children. — Gods such as 

these 
Cruel, vile, filthy, and detestable, 
They raised above the righteous God of Heaven : 
And Gcd looked down in anger; as a loathed, 
Repulsive morsel, spat them from his mouth, 



JEPHTHAH. 149 

Rejected, and abhorred them. — He, whose terrible 

Vindictive anger, held up to mockery 

The Gods, and brake the utmost strength of Egypt, 

Struck down bold Moab, crushed fierce Amalek, 

And, as a pigmy rends the meanest fly, 

Plucked up the Anakim, disgustedly 

Turned from his foster child, grieving in hatred, 

And yearning in his wrath : abandoning them 

To their own heart's lust, plunging them deep down 

Into their own miry slough, and cursing them 

To this vile slavery. — They sold their souls, 

He sold their bodies ; and the deadliest visitation 

That can befal free- men, fell heavily on them. 

Slaves, slaves in soul, in spirit, mind, thought, 

strength, 
In every energy still slaves, slaves, slaves. — 
Oh Israel ! oh, my wretched, wretched country ! 
Sin is thy curse, and sin's fit recompense 
The foul idolatry which binds thee in 
This bitter slavery. 

azubah. Nay, nay, no more of this; 

The bright, glad, glow of freedom, reddens our 

cheeks, 
And beats high in our hearts, 

HADAssah. Yes, freemen dare 

Lift up to heaven, their fiery, eagle glance ; 
And freemen, as it were, dare rush into heaven, 
Pierce to the throne of God, and look down thence 3 



150 JEPIITHAH. 

As God looks down upon his glorious works, 

To foster, and to love. The free-man's noble heart 

Holds a rich jewel, which no power but sin 

Can dim, or flaw : and his persisting strife, 

His stern contention against opposing worlds, 

His in-born spirit's onward, dauntless tread 

Through storm, through peril ; rising from each fall 

More vigorous, more determined, were a scene 

For angels to delight in. — God loves the free^man. — ■ 

God's freedom sits upon his eager sword, 

God's freedom sits upon his beaming lance, 

God's freedom is his corslet, shield, and helm, 

And the blithe spirit of God's freedom, sits 

A guardian angel on his expanded brow, 

Lights up his falcon-eye, and glancing bright 

As God's own lightning, bears down victory, 

And binds her inconstant pennons. — Oh, I am 

proud, 
Yes, I am proud, Azubah, in my father, 
My free-born, freedom-loving, dear, dear, father. 
No other child ever had a dearer father, 
No other father has a dearer child, 
Than Jephthah and his Hadassah. — Would, would 

that all, 
That all, all Israel, linked in our happiness, 
Were free, were blest as we are. 

azubah. And Othniel. 

hadassah. Othniel, my brother, by the dearest ties 



JEPHTHAH. 151 

Of loving friendship, and confiding love. 

I can be proud of noble Qthniel, 

The repetition of my princely father, 

Ardent, fierce, bold, wild, and intractable 

As the gyr-falcon : mild, balmy, gentle, 

As gay Spring's earliest breath. — Nurtured together 

As frolic antelopes, whose graceful necks 

Beauty has twined with flowers, we ever have been. 

As sister, and as brother. Jephthah blessed us, 

Linked our young hands together, half in sport 

Half in prophetic earnestness. From that day 

We thought one thought, acted one act, one soul 

Informed our separate minds ; one holiest joy 

Sleeping has nestled on our closed lids, 

Waking has gleamed from each blithe-beaming eye. 

And thou Azubah hast grown up with us, 

Been our fast friend, hast laughed, hast wept with us, 

And— 

azubah. And I can laugh, and weep, and frolic still, 
And bear with moodiness, and glow, as glows 
Thy enthusiastic spirit. And I can bless, 
And I can hail the sun that awakes this morn 
To witness — May Heaven's, heaven's choicest bles- 
sings 
Pure, fragrant clew-drops, fresh from Paradise 
Alight upon your heads. Nay, nay, weep not, 
Such pearls are unapt ornaments to deck 
A blest bride's blushing cheek. 



152 JEPHTHAH. 

hadassah. Yet could T weep 

Until weeping grew into mirthfulness, if joy 
Such as this bright day hails, were as the snn-light 
Spread over the whole earth. 



jephthah enters. 

jephthah. God save thee, child, 

The God of Israel shower his choicest gifts 
Upon ye both. 

hadassah. And, oh may Israel's God, 

Still, still protect my father, be to him 
Shield, spear, and hauberk. 

jephthah. Shield, hauberk, helm, 

And gallant hearts behind them. My bonny bird, 
The fresh-plumed owlet seeks to mate him with 
The royal eaglet. The hysena's cub 
Aspires to the lioness. 

hadassah. You speak in riddles. 

jephthah. Jesses, and bells, and lures; attractive 
lures, 
Are held out for the falcon : and she will sit 
Upon the princely hand, and sleek ber neck, 
And fan her soaring wings and clutch her talons, 



JEPHTHAH. 153 

And harry down the dove, and — Nay my blithe bird, 
Why look beseechingly ? Thou hast to grant. 

had ass ah. That covert glance of merriment repressed, 
Is at strange issue with thy constrained brow j 
Eaglets and owlets were as fitly mated. 
Thy mirth sits gaily on thy glowing cheek, 
Thy mirth sits gaily on thy rebellious lip 
And I will taste it's fragrance. I can look back, 
Far, far, far back, and see thee thus in thy pride, 
Thy youthful, manly, ardent, exulting pride, 
When first my mother listened to thy vows. 
And I as proudly love thee, my dear father ; 
And I, in all her womanly affection, 
Glory to bless thee, and to call thee mine : 
My own, dear father. 

jephthah. My own, my own dear child. 

I am as proud, as blest in thee, my girl : 
I can as fondly, as in my youthful love, 
Trace in thy form, thy mother's stately bearing, 
That bright, keen glance which nerved my sinewy 

arm 
And added tenfold vigour to my gripe ; 
That tear-filled gaze, when the glad, the holy hymn 
Melted and mingled with the evening's breath, 
Beam, glow, flash, blaze, in thee; and thy 

tongue 
Pours but renewed music into my soul. 
Thou art my rose, and I, thy nightingale, 



154 JEPHTHAH. 

And I could descant on thy breathing love 

Until music grew enamoured of herself, 

And my bright flower should weep her ecstacy. 

hadassah. My dear, dear father. 

jephthah. My sweet angel-child. 

Angels, for angels have such holy love, 
Angels, in angels feel such holy joy, 
Angels, in angels have such unsinning pride 
As thou and I have. I have guarded thee 
As the jealous serpent guards the treasured gold. 
And the Ethiop a more hopeful suitor were 
To the wakeful dragon, than red Amnion's prince 
To Jephthah. 

hadassah. Jephthah and Ammon, in one unseparate 
breath ? k 

jephthah. Ammon, Hadassah, in one compressed 
breath. 
Yes, girl, that brindled dog, that bear's rough cub, 
That 

hadassah. Nay, nay, be calm. 

jephthah. Thy price, 

Rubies, diamonds, pearls, gold, silver, 'fulgent brass, 

And iron lucid as the mid-day sun, 

Armour, and chariots, horses, pledged, to o'ermatch 



JEPKTHAH. 155 

The whirlwind, oxen, sheep, goats, lambs, 

And camels, — such a goodly equipage 

Joseph sent not of all rich Egypt's wealth 

To convoy our forefather. Israel's flocks, 

And lowing herds, were poverty herself 

To the proffered purchase. — 111 does Amnion think 

Manasseh's virgins are for barter born, 

That all the wealth of all th' ostentatious east 

Were fit price for my daughter. — No, my child, 

Thy heart as mine beats. Gold, is gold 

For those who love it : fame, is garish fame 

For those who seek it : honour is as truth 

To those who prize it. These are no times to play 

At fast and loose with fortune. Providence, 

Will but protect us, as we keep his path, 

Strait, stern, and rugged, but the only path 

Of safety. — Men, are the kings, my daughter, 

Men are the kings whom Jephthah matches with. 

In these rough days, the warrior is the, prince ; 

The featest swordsman is the bonniest bridegroom, 

The keenest hunter readily gathers fruit 

Which blushes far above the sheep-herd's reach, 

And Othniel, and Ammon, are as iron 

And mouldering clay to each other. — So have I said. 

So do I know Hadassah would have said, 

Frankly, and fairly, and resolvedly. 

hadassah. Heaven and my father, heard my plighted 
faith, 
Heaven and my father, ratified that faith, 



V 



156 JEPHTHAH. 

Heaven and my father, would expel me from 
Their only-coveted love were I to forget 
My honour or my oath. It is a pure 
A sacred love : the love, my father sealed, 
And I am proud to bear it in my bosom, 
And blush not — for it is holy : — but had not 
Ear ever heard, and throbbing heart never beaten 
To the joyous impulse, Amnion the idolater, 
Had sued, had wept in vain. 

jephthah. Or threatened ? 

habassah. Threats to Manasseh's daughters, were 
weak 
As to Manasseh's warriors, and — 



othniel enters. 

othniel. All hail, my father ! 

Azubah, dear Hadassah, hail to ye both. 
The God of Jacob, our forefather's God 
Bless ye, protect ye : 

all. And bless Othniel. 

jephthah. Thy quarry has been nobler far than often 
Yields to thy fleet-winged arrow. 

othniel. Stealing close 



JEPHTHAH. 157 

On the lee- ward side, between rocks and through 

tangled brakes, 
Death fell ere fear had cried. The outwatcher 
Stood fixed, agaze at the instantaneous crash ; 
Then at his utmost speed, fled as we followed. 
Our toil-strung compeers soon abated breath, 
But Asahel and myself, less firmly knit^ 
Leaped as he leaped, ran as he ran, yet held 
Our utmost effort in the leash, as poises 
The falcon before he swoops. Ere we could strike, 
A band of swarthy Ammonites, fully armed, 
Headed our game :■ fear urged the headlong course 
Full in his iormer trail, and he had fallen 
As a bird into a net ; but the swollen eye, 
Seemed to implore our pity, and the gushing tears 
Were as infants pleading. Down, intuitively,. 
Fell our relaxed arms, and the poor beast, 
Halted as though to thank us ; one strong bound 
Placed him beyond pursuit. — We, in our turn 
Were marked out for the chase, and but that Heaven 
Has mercy for the merciful, had fallen 
Before ten times our number. 

azubah. Asahel was not harmed? 

othniel. Nor any : and our sylvan trophies bear 
Good witness for us. Nay, my pretty playfellow 
Look not so sad. 

hadassah. 'Tis cruelty to chase 



158 JEPHTHAH, 

Such timid wretches, and because man has 

The strength to harm them, to exert that strength. 

Would I could bind your arrows with a curse, 

Unstring your bow with direct malediction, 

And anathematize your javelin. 

Some woeful day will see you borne along 

Helpless and wounded ; or, beneath some dark 

Impending precipice, mangled, and bleaching 

In the cold winds of heaven, will you lie 

For gorging vultures. 

jephthah. God be between us and such day of grief. 
Light be our lives, and easy be our deaths 
As of the game we feed on. Love's terror, girl, 
Is but an unschooled reasoner. — Ammonites 
So near to us ? 

othniel. Not in overmastering strength, 

But predatory parties, speck the distant, 
Almost extinct horizon. ' But for our chase 
They might not have been noticed. 

jephthah. Warily 

Hold we our 'vantage. The sailing eagle eyes 
From the splintered crest his spoiler. Amnion may 
Dare much in despite, and dare not we the less 
In our defence. Fare ye well, my children, 
You with your joys, I with a chieftain's duty 
Exhilirate our early meeting. 



JEPHTHAH. 159 

azubah. I, to my distaff, 

It's keen reproaches ring within my ears. 

JEPHTHAH AND AZUBAH, paSS Out. 



othniel, The choicest joy, 

Joy overpowering all other joys 
As the sun dims the starlight, welcomes in 
This day of happiness. As npon this day 
Our infant hands were joined : as upon this day, 
Year after year has affection's fervid prayer 
Re-sanctified our betrothal ; and but one more, 
Oh why one more long period of impatience ? 
And I shall hold thee, by a husband's right 
Mine, mine for ever. 

hadassah. And for ever yours, 

For ever mine. We are too happy, Othniel. 

othniel. If happiness could be distinct from lovely 
Angelic virtues, then indeed were happiness 
Too great for thee. If that my darkness were 
A faint reflection of thy purest light, 
Thy fixed, thy calm, intense, beatific light, 
111 should I deem all human happiness 
Too great for my enjoyment : yet mercy, 
Tempers even bliss to man's capacity 
Of endurance, and perfect bliss were too, 
Too far exalted for the human mind 



160 JEPHTHAH. 

To bear, and to hold it's faculties. Still I bless 
This happiest day and could for ever live 
In it's foreshadowing. 

hadassah. May God look down in mercy, 

And pour upon us so much mingled bliss 
And trial, as shall bear us, unharmed on 
To the life of our forefathers : there to live 
In rapturous worship, and in rapturous labour 
To enhance each other's bliss, and to increase 
His honour who has made us. Would that, Othniel, 
Would that poor outcast Israel, would return 
In penitence to him. 

othniel. Would say }^ou, dearest girly 

My sister-wife : would, would that Israel 
Would turn in penitence ? — If erring fame 
Fable not past all redemption, Israel 
Yet crying in terror, and with ashes strewn 
Upon ashes, grovelling implore of him, 
Pardon and pity. — We but indistinctly hear, 
As we are here cut off, kept separate, 
And unpolluted by communion with 
The vile idolater : we indistinctly hear 
The sore oppression by the Ammonite, 
The sore oppression by the Philistine ; 
And eighteen years of bitterest degradation 
Have even but now so subdued them that they have 

cried. 
The indignant prophets, holy in their anger, 



JEPHTHAH. 161 

Have turned from them in wrath, and bidden them 

cry 
To the bestial gods they chose. 

hadassah. Yet, O, Lord God ! 

Thou wilt not burn in vengeance until the earth 
Shall wither : Thou wilt still; in compassion, hear 
My poor, poor country ; thy own little one, 
The child of thy own bosom. 

othniel. Be it so. 

They stood aghast. Pestilence, and misery 
Stalked glaring, and upon thousands, thousands 

fell; 
Famine gnawed upon famine, and death, throned, 
Sole monarch sate. — The brazen serpent saved 
All who looked on in faith : so, in agony 
Looked they and lived. As the big, scalding tear 
Of streaming penitence, implored for mercy 
Compassion stooped from heaven. They burst the 

bonds, 
They hurled down Chemosh, hurled fell Moloch 

down 
To welter in his own fire. — To the wide 
Rejoicing winds they scattered Ashtaroth, 
Priest-throned, impure, revolting Queen of Heaven, 
So named in insensate, vain idolatry • 
Threw down their altars, to the abhorring sun 
Revealed the secrets of their sacred groves, 
And while wan Ammon, in his wrath restrained. 



, 



162 JEPHTHAH. 

Looked on in utter astonishment, they slew 
The required victims, purified themselves, 
And worshipped the Lord God, the only God : 
And he has heard them. 

hadassah. Ever may he hear 

Their heart-felt thankfulness. This is indeed a day, 
Of joy and of rejoicing. Israel has awakened 
To his dire sinfulness : Israel has awakened 
To purifying penitence — Israel has awakened 
To sanctifying peace. My loved, loved country I 
The mother cannot gloat upon her child, 
The bridegroom cannot triumph in his bride,. 
As I rejoice over thee. 

othniel. Yet be advised. 
All this is said : but blear uncertainty 
Yet darkens the intelligence : await 
In confiding hope it's truth, 

With rent garments, 
With sackcloth on their loins, earth on their heads, 
Whence are these suppliants ? 

Othniel and Hadassah retire, Jephthah enters, fol- 
lowed by Ithra, Galeed, and Mattatha, (Elders of 
GileadJ and accompanied by Asahel. 

jephthah. I never injured one of Gilead's sons, 
High Heaven forbid that e'er my father's house 



JEPHTHAH. 163 

Should fear despite or injury from me. 
There lies your way, 

ithra. We acknowledge all i 

We own our fault, and seek to expiate 
Our foul offence. 

jephthah. And therefore come ye to espy me out, 
To make a record of my wonted haunts, 
To mark the value of the spoil I fought for, 
And boldly gained from Ammon ? — For this ye come, 
Under the glozing semblance of abasement ; 
And bend and cringe, that when ye see advantage, 
High towering over Jephthah, ye may strike, 
And crush him. For this goodly end ye come. 

mattatha. By the King of Heaven !— 

jephthah. Traitors swear glibly. Could I believe 
your oaths, 
I, who from you each bitterest wrong endured, 
Made keener by the sense of my dependence ? 

Ye could praise my form, 
Ye could caress me, could recount my deeds, 
Repeat my prattle, while my father lived, 
For that ye knew his love expected it. 
Scarcely the blessing he implored upon me, 
Grew cold upon his faltering, lifeless lip, 
Ere ye could gather courage to insult, 
To taunt, to scoff : and, lest the puny rage 

m 2 



164 JEPHTHAH. 

Of boyhood's indignation should outbreak, 

Ye forced me, homeless, from my father's home. — 

Go, ask the wildest bird that cleaves the sky 

With rapid wing ; go, ask the fiercest beast 

"Which ever drove his offspring from his lair 

If those who injure ever come to beg. 

ithra. We acknowledge all. 

Heap, heap it doubled, tripled, upon our heads, 
Our sinful heads. We sinned most grievously, 
And that, our grievous crime, in wrath returns. — 
The scorpion-scourge of dire necessity 
Has driven us, cowering, to implore that aid 
Which we so vilely, cruelly denied 
To an orphan. — Gilead not alone 
Sues now for mercy : all Manasseh's sons 
Implore. 

jephthah. Which of Manasseh's sons 

Gave me a home when your inhuman outrage 
Drove me through storm and whirlwind to seek out 
And hope to find the lion in his hunger 
More gentle than a brother ? They with you 
Hunted me down. Each galling epithet 
Whose force, whose meaning, I have learnt too 

dearly, 
Was lavished upon me. Not alone reviling 
My mother, — for she was a mother to me, 
Although foul sin had driven her to seek 
The bread' of shame — No, not alone reviling 



JEPHTHAH. 165 

My mother, but my princely father's name 
Branding with infamy, they hurled it all 
Upon my devoted head. Shall I then stoop 
Now that the hand of God hath set me up, 
Given me wealth, given me earthly power, 
And made me greatest of that father's house ? 



galeed. I, Jephthah, beg. 

jephthah. Thou art my elder brother. 

galeed. Elder by birth, much elder in demerit, 
Elder in crime, in all that can debase 
And make man vile, I, elder am to you, 
Much younger in all else. 

jephthah. You flatter masterlike. 

galeed. "We come from Gilead : we are sorely di 
tressed, 
Robbed of all hope, hopeless of all repose 
But in the bosom of our outcast brother. 

jephthah. Well ye affect the utterance of distress. 

ithea. We speak as nature prompts us, in reply 
To censures, just and righteous that they are, 
Yet harsh, yet bitter, made more poignant still 
By conscience pouring venom through their teeth. 



166 JEPHTHAH. 

asahel. This indignation does but bear thee on 
Beyond the bound of reason. 

jephthah. Does Asahel, 

Plead for oppressors ? ! 

asahel. Nay, but I use the privilege of friendship, 
And soothe my chieftain when he acts unkindly. 

jephthah. They heeded not when, in that cruel night, 
I was cast out a homeless wanderer, 

asahel. As to the august progenitor of our tribe 
Whose brethren knelt in terror at his feet ; 
These tyrants now are grovelling at your feet, 
Whose outrage has been made the instrument 
Of God to exalt you. 

jephthah. I owe them nought, 

asahel. All owe commiseration 

To all. This their too foul offence 
As it depresses them, enhances but more 
Your pity. 

jephthah. When, by severe experience, you, who know 
not 
Aught but of noblest natures, shall have discerned 
That foul deceit with fragrant poison tips 
Her insidious barb, I then will waive my judgment, 






JEPHTHAH. 167 

But, for these men. — Return ye to your homes- 

galeed. How can we face our wives, our little ones ? 
Dread God of Heaven ! in mercy to our misery, 
Bid pitying earth open her marble jaws 
And swallow us. — We have sinned, have sinned, 
Have sinned most bitterly — and, Thou art just. 

ithra. When impious Ammon bare away our flocks, 
Stopped up our wells, poisoned our rivulets, 
Ravaged our fields, expelled vis of our homes, 
Righteous expulsion for we cast thee out ; 
Drove us to dig, for refuge, in the earth 
Holes, dens, and caves : when, when their ferocity 
Tare from the mother's breast her darling one, 
The child of her old age, her only one, 
And dashed the brains out — to the shrieks and 

moans 
Of childless matrons, of bereaved sires, 
All we could answer, was — our brother Jephthah, 

jephthah. And, in return for all I could achieve, 
Ye would surprize me in the deep sleep of night, 
And bind me, and deliver me to Ammon. 
This would ye do, and buy your safety with it. 

galeed. Oaths, prayers, and protestations, 

Cannot efface the stigma which we bear 
Most justly. — Far, far as men could suffer 
With stern endurance we could firmly bear 



168 JE^HTHAH. 

Nor shrink one nerve : — but when our virgins' cries, 
When infant wailings, when the weak moans of age. 
All night, all day, for wearying months and years, 
Pierce through us : when, stretched upon the couch 
Of feverish, restless, wan, inquietude, 
Just sinking, from exhaustion, into slumber, 
Our wretched haunts glare in the hostile flame • 
They must be far, far less than degraded men 
That could refuse to bow. 

jephthah. I have endured all this ; 

Have lien for weeks upon the frozen earth, 
And Gilead's sons would not vouchsafe a look 
On the starving outcast; nor will he on them. — ■ 
Nay, speak no more : I have been taught by you 
To shut my ears to woe and lamentation : 
And I could imitate the hideous yell, 
The demon howl, the fiendish execration, 
The hell-born laughter ; but that I should scorn 
To crush a wounded reptile. Go in peace. 

ithra. Poor, poor Manasseh ! wretchedness and 
death 
Are all thy own. 

mattatha. We must endure it firmly^ 

And, when the worst of misery shall arrive, 
Can but destroy our offspring and ourselves, 
And leave dead bodies for the lust of Amman. 



JEPHTHAH. 169 

had ass ah. My father 1 

jephthah. Ttetire, retire, obey me instantly. 

hadassah. Alas, my father ! until this dreadful hour 
I never knew a scene of misery. 

jephthah. Go — go— 

hadassah. You never frowned upon me, 

Nor have I ever offended you. — My father ! — 
Was — was it my father spake unadvisedly ? 

Our great lawgiver, blessed be his remembrance, 
Bade us befriend the helpless and the stranger, 
Even to help the Egyptian, in his distress, 
For that we were bond-men in the Egyptian's land. — - 
Strangers have claims upon our earnest pity, 
Strangers are in God's own safeguard, pleading in 
The voice of God. — Forgive me, oh my father — - 
We all come strangers into this chill world, 
Where then had been thou, I, and all around, 
Had strangers not found welcome, had not some 
Kind bosom cherished us ? 

jephthah. These were no strangers, girl, 

Had they not rudely snapped affection's bonds 
And made themselves estranged. — These are the 

men 
Who once could make a merit of feigned affection 



170 JEPHTHAH. 

And call me, brother : fraternity in hatred 
Is all the tie of blood now. They loathed me, 
As I now reject them. — There lies your way. 

hadassah. Our childless forefather, for the guilty 
cities, 
As friend to friend, dared speak before his Creator, 
Shall not I plead to man ? — My father, oh my 

father ! 
Why is this trembling ? grasp me not so harshly, 
Nay, turn not thus away. — I am your child ; 
And though I brave your anger, yet I am 
Your true, your trustful, your affectionate child ; 
And, though you slew me, my departing soul 
Would be your child's. — Remember, oh, my father ! 
Thou wast a stranger. 

jephthah. Stranger, rejected, spurned, 

Cursed, spit upon, — Yes, I was made a stranger, 
And the stark wilderness was a fonder brother 
Than my fond father's children.- — Go in peace — 
Go — go in peace. 

hadassah. And the sweet peace of Heaven 

Shall spring up in your soul, if only, only you add, 
Come, come in peace. — My father ! — in my prayers, 
When I could just but lisp the holy name, 
When I sat, wondering, on the dear, loved knees 
I now grasp imploringly, and followed your 
Uplifted gaze, and marked the deep-blue sky 



JEPHTHAH. 171 

Gemmed with the glowing stars, you bade me say, 
God bless my father — God bless my kind, kind 

friends — 
God bless my enemies : — Did you not then forgive 
Your enemies, my father? — Nay, struggle not, 
Tear not away your hand. 

jephthah. Rise, — rise, 

hadassah. I would not only rise : with heaven-ward 
spring 
I would clasp around my father's neck, and devour- 
ingly 
Kiss off those gushing tears. — If God should bid, 
If God should bid thee, by an angeFs voice, 
To do some great deed, would'st thou not do it ? 
If God should bid thee in his rugged path 
To walk, would'st thou not walk? If God should 

say 
These are my children ; love them : could'st thou 

not love them ? — 
These are God's children : they have turned to him, 
And God has turned to them. Wilt not thou turn ? 
Wilt not thou follow where God treads before thee ? 

jephthah. They are apostates. 

hadassah. They were apostates. 

Oh, that we all could look into our bosoms 
And find no stain of apostacy within 



172 JEPHTIIAH. 

Our secret, secret, souls ! — Bear with me, oh my 

father ! 
As God has borne with them, — bear, bear with them 
As God has borne with thee, — and, oh forgive 
As thou shalt hope, as thou would' st be thyself 

Forgiven. God has forgiven them : 

I know, I feel it. — Suppliants though they be, 
Robed as they are in wretchedness, denied 
With dust and ashes ; yet, their manly bearing 
Asserts that they are forgiven ; consciously 
They tread as new-born men, as men free-born, 
Free-born in God's pure love. Shall God's own 

freed-man 
Plead to a free-born man, and no responsive string 
Vibrate within him ? Oh, forbid it, Heaven ! — 
God of my fathers ! bid my father be 
A father to his brethren. — Oh, my honoured father ! 
These are our brethren : we have one common 

father, 
Are of one tribe, one nation, adore one God. — 
Think, think, my father ; Amnion's iron scourge 
This eighteen years has torn, has tortured them. . 
Fearless and proud, made insolent in strength, 
Unchecked, and unrestrained, they even now 
Gather around our home : 

jephthah. They dare as soon assail 

The battlements of heaven : 

hadassah. While that God holds 



JEPHTHAH. 173 

His bridle in their jaws : — be that unloosed, 

In some dread, maddened moment, hot with wine, 

Enarmed with MolocVs blood-stained, burning 

brands 
Their ferocious legions yet may test your strength. 
True, ypu are strong ; true, your resounding fame 
Holds their fierce king in check : but, sinking in old 

age, 
Stricken down, and smitten, languid with disease, 
Could Jephthah strive for ever ? — Oh, I could beg, 
Outweary you with strenuous supplication ; 
Could say that, even yet, my father may need; 
Renowned, glorious, prosperous as he is, 
The succour he denies : could strongly picture, 
His treasures pillaged, his defenceless child, 
When Othniel, and when Jephthah are far off, 
For ye are brave, and fearless of surprise ; 
Borne off by Ammon. Oh, I could tell him too, 
His name, abhorred, would reek in future time 
Should he for personal, private wrong desert 
His writhing country. Oh, I could tell him, 
Could tell him, could he impiously, ungratefully, 
"Withstand the holy impulse which even now 
Fiercely burns within his ardent, stedfast gaze, 
And sits defiant upon his firm-set lip, 
That God needs not the energy of Jephthah 
To save his agonized children. — God can call 
From out this hard earth, instantaneously, 
Ten thousand thousand legions to avenge 
His chosen ; — but the love of Heaven selects 



174 JEPHTHAH. 

Thy brilliant weapons — Thou art God's chosen 

chief — 
Go, in the strength of God — Hew down God's foes — 
Be, be thou, God's glorious conqueror. — 

jephthah. To my heart, 

My bleeding, bursting, yearning, yearning heart, 
Come, come, my brethren. — 

Hadassah ! thou 
Hast conquered. In thy thrall of gentleness 
Thou holdest no gentle spirit. 

ithra. This, this shall be a day of gratulation, 
A day of holy joy, kept festival, 
And sanctified to future time — Hail — Hail to thee, 

Chief! 
Hail, to thee, Angel ! Unborn years shall be 
Kich in thy praise. 

hadassah. And wealthy shall ye be 

In Him toward whom your erring feet have turned. 
So shall ye fight, as never yet men fought, 
So shall ye conquer, as never yet men conquered, 
So shall ye triumph, as never yet men triumphed. 
Before you, as the fragile, quivering leaves 
Are whirled by the tempest's breath, your enemies 
Shall flee: Gilead the loud-resounding threshing- 

floor, ,, 

Ammon the refuse chaff. — Be but his people, 



JEPHTHAH. 175 

And he will be your guide, your chief, your God. 

jephthah. As ye have said : say, do ye straitly 
swear 
Here, in the presence of that God, whose might 
Smote Egypt, and led Israel through the drear 
And howling wilderness ; who ever heads 
Israel's blithe band, shall be proud Gilead's head ? 

ithra. We have so said : and we do straitly swear 
Here, in the presence of that God, whose might 
Smote Egypt, and led Israel through the drear 
And howling wilderness ; if thou shalt head 
Israel's blithe band, thou shalt be Gilead's head. 

jephthah. So do the God of Heaven, to me and 
mine 
As I discharge my duty faithfully, 
Towards God and man. I will be Gilead's head, 
Will be to Gilead, father, brother, friend ; 
Gilead to me be fathers, brethren, friends, 
And woe to him that severs this our union. 

Othniel ! Asahel ! ere the noontide hour 

We march towards Mizpeh. Bid our ready bands 

Heed not to leave their wives and children here. 

God's terror shall keep watch around their heads 5 

Chariots and horsemen of avenging fire 

Shall walk around them incessantly. — 



176 JEPHTHAH. 

My child ! 
My dear, devoted, enthusiastic child ! 
Pride of my youth and glory of my manhood, 
Light, life, and lustre of this dearly-loved home, 
Thy nerves must now be strung. 

hadassah. Whatever task 

God calls his creatures to, he fits them for, 
And the timid, powerless woman, in his strength 
Becomes a dauntless giant. Deborah 
Might lead when Barak quailed. 



[They all pass out.'] 



i- i-*\ 



177 



THE COUNCIL, 



JEPHTHAH, ITHRA, GALEED, MATTATHA, 



asahel enters. 



jephthah. Thou hast borne thy message ? 

asahel. Thus have I said. — 

Jephthah the son of Gilead, and the chosen head 
Of Israel's warriors, thus has said to Ammon. 
" Why hast thou ventured to invade my land 
And striven to fight against me?" — Ammon has 

said, 
" Because that Israel, in his lawless might 
Fleeing from Egypt's bonds, overran my land 
From Arnon even unto Jabbok ; now, in peace, 
Let him restore the lands of which he robbed me." 

N 



178 JEPIITHAH. 

Now Jeplitliah unto Animon thus replies. 

" Israel robbed neither Moab, nor yet Ammon, 
But when he brake from the Egyptian's tyranny, 
And, in the might of the Lord God of Hosts, 
Honoured and blessed be that holy name, 
The Red Sea rolled his trembling waters back 
On either hand, and, through the wilderness, 
His foot had trodden until he reached the limit 
Of Kadesh, then did Israel send in peace 
To his brother Edom, saying, let me pass 
Straight through thy borders : Edom flatly refused 
Though he was Israel's brother. Then Israel spake 
To Moab : Moab's proud king, haughtily 
Sent back the messengers, in scorn. So Israel, 
Respecting their sovereignty, and the tie of blood 
Remembering, on his wearied feet held onward 
And skirted around Edom's land, and Moab, 
Passing by the Eastern side, and trespassing not 
One moment within their borders, but encamping 
On the other side of Arnon, Moab's extreme limit. 
Then Israel sent to Sihon, king of the Amorites 
In his seat at Heshbon, asking frankly, 
As equals ask of equals, leave to pass 
Through the Amorite's land to his appointed rest. 
Mistrustful Sihon collected an armed host, 
Pitched in Jahaz, and presumptuously 
Began the battle : but the insulted Lord God 
Beat down his strength, bound fast the unrighteous 
one 



JEPHTHAH. 179 

And gave him, helpless, into Israel's hand : 
And Israel took, and holds, all that the Amorite 
Before time held, even from Arnon's vale 
Northward to Jabbok, and from the wilderness 
Westward to Jordan, a good land, and a large, 
A land of fruits, a land of luxuriant vines, 
And keeps it as his inalienable right. 
Israel robbed thee not. God gave to him the spoil 
And rooted out the Amorite, — Would' st thou 
Possess it ? Would'st not thou possess 
Whatever thy god Chemosh could confer ? 
And so will Israel, pertinaciously, 
And resolutely hold, whatever land 
The dread Lord God, who alone can give or take, 
Shall give to him, whatever be the nation 
He shall drive out before him. — Ammon, art thou 
Stronger than Balak, the renowned son 
Of Zippor, king of Moab ? Can'st thou force 
Another Balaam to curse but the utmost edge 
Of Israel's host, when God shall bid him, perforce, 
And despite of his rebellious will, to bless them ? 
Did ever Moab within the three hundred years 
Since Israel dwelt in Heshbon and her towns, 
In Aroer and her towns, and in all the cities 
Of the coast of Arnon, ever re-claim the land 
Or ever strive to re-conquer it? — If it were not 
God given, why during those three hundred years 
Did'st thou submit ? Why didst thou not, in thy 
daring, 

n 2 



180 JEPHTHAH. 

Recover them ? — I have not sinned against thee, 
I claim the land as mine, and this thy war 
Against me is most unjust.— Thou, the wrong-doer 
Complainest of my wrong. — Within my hands 
I place my life. The righteous Lord, the Judge, 
Be judge this day between Israel and Ammon : 
Retire thou from my land : — 

So, unreservedly, 
Gave I thy plain-spoken message. 

jephthah. Does Ammon yield? 

Does he recede from his unrighteous claim ? 

asahel. Grinding his teeth, and gnashing in his rage, 
No answer he vouchsafed. War, determined war, 
No child's game, but relentless, unsparing war 
Spake, though his tongue lacked words. 

jephthah. Then War, War, War, 

Shall be our battle-cry. We offered the peace 
Of Justice, in our fearlessness. Since that Ammon 
Rejects the offer, War to the extremity — 
Elders and brethren, say, have I counselled well ? 

mattatha. Were Ammon, but, on the instant, in my 
gripe. 

galeed. Jephthah ! we came to thee as men resolved 
Dearly to sell our lives, or dearly to buy 



JBPHTHAH. 181 

Our liberty. We stood like gaze-hounds in the 

leash, 
Ardent to hunt down oppression, and to shew 
How far beyond endurance we have been galled. 
We but restrained our eagerness, in respect 
To thee. — Thou, in thy generosity, hast offered 
Safe-conduct to our foe-man : would'st give him, 

Law, 
That we might run a fair chase at his heels : 
But Ave would tear him down ^ere his fleet foot 
Had started. — Lead us — lead us quickly on 4 
We need no respite, know no fatigue, revenge 
Has armed us to the teeth, and rankling hatred 
Adds wings to our impatience. — Onward — on, on. 

ithra. Courage lacks constancy, sedatest valour 
Takes counsel with staid wisdom. Not less in 

hatred, 
Nay in more resolved hatred, more defined. 
More calculating hatred, Ithra adds 
His voice to all your voices. All that I counsel 
Is cool, determined, strict, subserviency 
To our experienced leader. As he shall step 
Step we ; as he shall shout, shout we ; as he shall 

strike, 
In the extremest weight of all our vengeance, strike 
Our weapons. In the justice of our cause 
Fight we like men, not maniacs. Knit close 
In body, heart, and soul ; compacted as one, 
In God's might let us march, so God shall be 



J 82 JEFHTHAII. 

Our vanguard and our rere-ward. 

jephthah. Asahel ! 

With Othniel head our march. My household 

friends, 
Stark warriors, and resolved, burn for the fight. 
Guarded by them, dear unto each of them 
As his own or his chieftain's life, my daughter shall 

cheer, 
And urge on their full speed. At Mizpeh 
Of Gilead we shall meet. 

My brethren ! 
We as one man march on, gathering our strength 
As vultures gather vultures to the feast. 
Onward, then onward. — In the cause of God, 
Of Israel, and of Gilead, onward, onward. 

[They all pass oul.~] 



183 



MIZPEH OF GILEAD. 



KALED, PENINAH. AND VIRGINS. 



peninah. Generous and merciful, 

Oh how unlike his guilty persecutors 
Is my noble boy. 

virgin. And lovely Hadassah, 

Before whose footsteps halcyon morning blushes, 
And mid-day brightness kindless at her gaze. 

peninah. Glad Fame has decked her with the glorious 
hues 



18-1 JEPHTIIAH. 

Of ministering angels in their joy. 
(Tephtliah's bold spirit, tempered by a seraph, 
Glows in a female bosom. He, the meteor-fire 
Streaming athwart the tempest; she the evening- 

star 
Brilliant in the sun's effulgence. — Age has cramped, 
And benumbed my spirit, butt the flush of youth 
Iuforms me, as I dwell upon the scene 
Hope decks so gorgeously. 



mahudatha enters. 

mahudatha. And the outraged boy 

In manhood will not meditate revenge ? 
Go hide within your narrow, loathsome dens, 
Dig deep within the bowels of the earth, 
Beg safety from the cold, relentless rock. — 

peninah. And charity from the coward's slanderous 

tongue. 
Out on thee, wretch ; vile, venemous, yelping cur, 
Snapping at the horse-hoofs, but fleeing howling 

from 
The bull's bold front. 



HADASSAH AND OTHNIEL enter. 

Heaven save Hadassah ! 



JEPHTHAH. 185 

Lovingly we kiss your foot-prints, noble lady, 
Gilead's fair princess, Israel's glorious hope. 

hadassah. Rise, rise, I entreat you, as my joyous 
heart 
Cries, welcome, unto all ; or, grovelling in the dust 
I must bow down. I do but come to you, 
A hostage for my father's fealty, 
A happy harbinger of victory, 
Yet ye receive me as a conqueror. 

peninah. And Jephthah comes not to his boyhood's 
home : 
And Jephthah prays not where his father prayed : 
And Jephthah, overflowing in his gratitude 
Praises not here, upon the guilty threshold 
Which clave not into fragments when he fled, 
The God which has returned him to his home 
In prosperous safety ?— It is not well, my Jephthah ! 
Peninah would have died rejoicingly 
Had she but seen her Jephthah kneeling here. 

hadassah. Weep not, nay weep not ; base ingratitude 
And Jephthah are not of kin. This his loved home 
Shall welcome him a glorying conqueror : 
Here shall he bless the God of his forefathers, 
Here shall he bless him, as, in his purest love 
And superabounding gratitude, I kiss thee 
My honoured, my revered, unknown, yet dearly 
cherished, 



186 .TEPHTHAH. 

My loved, loved benefactress. Warmer heart 
Has not Peninali for her foster-child, 
Than has my father for his foster-mother. 

peninah. But one more pleasure has my God to give. 
My child's fair fame stands nobly vindicated, 
I have seen his child : even the bliss of heaven 
Scarcely can overpass such happiness. 

the people (without). Blessing and honour, ever 

wait upon thee : 
Be glory and glad remembrance thy reward : 
Bravest among the bravest ; who hast heard 
And answered. The great, the merciful God 
Forgive us, and bless thee. 



JEPHTHAH, ASAHEL, ITHRA, MATTATHA, GALEED, AND 

others, enter. 

jephthah. God of my fathers ! severe and terrible, 
God of my fathers ! kind and merciful, 
The One, the True, the Holy ! here I entreat 
Pardon for all my waywardness, for vice, 
For crime, for deadly sin. — Here, here abased, 
I beg, I implore for pardon. As I do, freely, 
And from my inmost soul forgive all men, 
And utterly blot out from my memory 
All sense of anger, me do Thou forgive. 
Here, standing in my father's foot-prints, I, 



JEPHTHAH. 



187 



The foster-child of thy own providence, 

Praise thee, and bless thee, honour thee, adore thee, 

For mercies, each transcending my desert 

As thou transcendest empty nothingness ; 

For dark, mysterious mercies, chastisements, 

Which have scourged me into thy own righteous 

path, 
And made me what I am, and raised me up 
To be a benefactor to my loved 
My honoured father's house ; to be the centre, 
The rallying point of Gilead, of Manasseh, 
The Standard of a just warfare. Here, before thee, 
Here, upon the sacred threshold of my home, 
The home of my forefathers, I renew 
My sacred pledge. Here, I, advisedly, 
Reiterate my oath to lead thy people, 
As thou shalt smile upon our enterprise, 
To victory, to freedom. O ! do thou, 
God of our fathers ! severe aud terrible, 
God of our fathers ! kind and merciful, 
So prosper us, as we are true to thee. 

kaled. Old age has bleared my sight, but I can re- 
cognize, 
That ardent voice. Lead me, Peninah, lead me 
That I may die, in pleasure, at his feet. 

jephthah. Not die, but live ; but live until extreme 
age 



188 JEPHTHAII. 

Shall lead us both to the grave. No, no, good Kaled ! 

Jephthah is no death-messenger ; his life 

Richly were recompensed in giving thee 

A century of new life. Come, good old man, 

Come, my kind foster-mother to my arms, 

Lean your heads on my bosom that our tears 

May mingle richly as our wonted joys. 

kaled. I do not see thee, but I feel thy strong, 
Thy vigorous arm ; I feel thy bounding heart 
Throb as 'twould leap into mine. The God of 

Heaven, 
Our father's God, pour gladty upon thee 
The wealth of heaven, the treasures of the earth : 
Thy enemies bow down beneath thy feet, 
Thy brethren glory in thy glorious greatness, 
Gilead, Manasseh, Israel, swell thy praise. 

peninah. Aud, oh that these glad tears 

Were each a blessing, richer than the clews 
Of Hermon and of Carmel. — When the sighs, 
The tears, the groans, the shrill, the torturing 

shrieks 
The desperation, and the frantic agony 
Of sinking Israel rose : — When cruel Ammon 
To torture added torture, to revenge 
Added revenge, to insult added insult, 
Devising day by day, and year by year, 
Re-refined torments : — Even when all sunk 
Exhausted beneath the exhaustion of their fiend — 



JEPHTHAH. 189 

■ — Incarnated skill : — Even when prophet, priest, 
And seer fell down abashed : then it was, that I, 



curse, 
Still shouted the curse of God, upon their gods, 
And rang in their ears, of slow-footed, but resolved, 
Relentless, retribution : and, they turned, 
They turned to God, and God returned to them : 
They turned to Jephthah, Jephthah returned to 

them, 
And my chilled heart grew warm ; my frozen limbs 
Bounded with youthful vigour ; for I knew, 
My boy would not degenerate from his blood, 
Nor shame the milk that nourished him : and, I am 

proud, 
Proud, prouder than the eagle when the sun 
Is bathed in by her eaglet, and he sails away 
In his own, independent might. — Dear as to me 
Art thou ; dear as to thee, thy child ; dear as to her 
The life-blood of her heart ; so dear to all 

Be all. In consanguinity, 

Children of one — of one as good as dead, 
Children of one — the promised, the given heir, 
Children of one — the elected of his God, 
Children of Jacob, Isaac, Abraham ; 
March onward in your fierceness. Strike them 

down, 
Destroy, root up, crush the idolators. 



190 JEPHTIIAH. 

jephthah. Were the impending strife 

For spoil, for fame, for conquest, I should shrink 
In terror thus to leave thee, my fair child, 
The pride, the hope, the stay, the consolation, 
Of every sorrow, every toil, of every wild 
Enthusiastic vision, of every pleasure 
That binds his offspring to a parent's heart : 
But, righteous is my cause, asserting the right, 
Defending the defenceless, sternly avenging 
Wrong upon wrong, and to the utterance 
Defying those who, impiously, have defied, 
Insulted, and contemned the Lord God ; 
Even in the midst of Amnion's throng, thou wert 
Safe as at heaven's gate, and rejoicing cherub -hosts 
Were a wall of fire around thee. Confidingly 
I leave thee in the care of him, whose shield 
Shadows the orphan. — Fare thee well, my child : 
Glad, golden days of glorious happiness, 
Of plenteous exuberance in all Israel's love 
And veneration await thee. 

had ass ah. Fare thee, fare thee well. 

In the same holy confidence I quit 
Thus thy paternal bosom. In the might 
Of God thou marchest, in his victorious might 
Gladsome be thy return. — Fare, fare thee well. 

all. God of our fathers ! save us in thy mercy, 
God of our fathers ! sanctify their valour, 



JEPHTHAH. 191 

God of our fathers ! grant them victory. 

JEPHTIIAH, ASAHEL, AND THE ELDERS paSS Out. 

othniel remains. 



hadassah. Farewell, yes, fare thee well. — Yet, 

Othniel ! 
There is a rebel spirit in my bosom 
Whispering of danger, struggling against my strong 

hope, 
And choking my conviction. — I shall not hear his 

prayer, 
I shall not hear his evening benediction ; 
And in the drear, dread silence of the night 
Dreams of sad import may assail me. — Othniel ! 
In that drear, dreadful silence, pray that my soul 
May not shrink from her duty. — At that lone, 
That weary hour, upon yon star in the zenith, 
I will gaze fixedly, and thou wilt gaze 
Thereon, and we shall bless, and strengthen, 
And pray the one for the other ; looking upon 
One glorious object in God's deep, dark sky, 
And there our eyes shall meet in one glad hope. 

othniel. The ever blessed, the ever- wakeful host 
Of kindred spirits keep their steadiest watch 
Around thee. May their balmy, argent wings 
Fan you into tranquil slumber, and hope, and joy, 
Hail your glad welcome of the roseate morn. 



192 JEPHTHAH. 

Fear not, nay fear not. 

hadassah. All is most strange around. 

Those trees, yon hill, have never welcomed me 
At morning's rise, at evening's setting ray, 
Nor seen me lingering to greet the stars' 
First twinkle in the glowing firmament : 
And a strange sadness, sadness so strange as to seem 
Ominous of evil days, broods over me. — 
If in the strife of battle — if in the strife — 
Where it is thickest, and where thou and my father 
Are certain to be found, some furious foe 
Should aim at our father's life, — be thou — 
Oh be thou, Othniel ! as a second Providence 
To save him. 

othniel. So do the God of Heaven to me, and more, 
If I desert him. In our heaviest strife 
Our prayers will both be for Hadassah's safety. 
Hadassah's prayers will draw down angels to com- 
bat 
In legioned strength around us. — Fare thee well — 
The God of Heaven guard thee : — resolutely 
I must flee from thee : — fare thee, fare thee well. 

hadassah. Fare — fare thee well. Thus am I left 

alone 
Without a friend to listen to my sorrows, 
Without a kindly bosom to respond to. 
Or to cheer me in my anxiety. — Alone, 



JEPHTHAH. 193 

Mournful; depressing thought— Alone — 

peninah. Though chilled, though seared by age, by 
misery, 
Yet can we feel the throb of gratitude, 
Yet can we answer in benignity 
And love, to her, in whom love and benignity 
Sit throned. 

hadassah. All my visionary hope 

Is now one blank. 

peninah. Where gladness and victory, 

Shall paint in living colours scenes of bliss. 
Eager with hope, in dim futurity 
I saw his glory : now, it's airy volumes 
Are tinged with light, and life, and certainty. 
Blithe, honied, music, wafted on the thankful, 
The fragrant incense of a nation's prayers 
Precedes thy halcyon dawn of happiness, 

hadassah. So heaven permit ! 






194 



THE MARCH. 



JEPHTHAH AND WARRIORS. 



jephthah. So has our speed 

Been well sustained, and secret ; and we but breathe 
For the impetuous onset. Well have ye all 
As to one purpose fixed, held steadily 
The onward course from Gilead, traversing 
Manasseh unto Mizpeh, passing Mahanaim, 
And overleaping Jabbok, as a rill, 
At Peniel — blessed be our father's strife 
When there he wrestled as a mighty prince 
And prevailed against God's angel. — Here, from the 
heights 



JEPHTHAH. 195 

Of Ramath, gazing on the joyous plain 

Eich in it's clustering vineyards ; far and wide, 

Amnion's black tents pierce through the morning 

mist, 
Safe in their conscious strength, and, scornfully 

scorning 
The oppressed slaves vengeance. — Othniel ! 
Veiled by yon curling mist -wreath, lead thy force 
Under the shadow of the Eastern mountains 
Ere the, now level, sun beams gild the vale, 
Far southward as to Rabbath ; and when our shout 
Of battle arises from Aroer, rapidly 
Fall upon their flank. Touch not, nor food, nor 

spoil, 
No prisoner make, but hew them as they have hewn 
God's heritage. — So speed thee — 

Asahel ! — 
He is not wont to be a laggard riser 
When the game is on the wing. — Ho ! Asahel ! — 



GALEED AND MATTATHA enter, With ELROTHAN. 

galeed. Chieftains, all hail ! — May this our earnest 
be 
A goodly omen of success. — The earliest dawn 
'Ere the owl had slunk to rest, has given us 
Far goodlier game than we sought. Say, infidel, 
What errand aroused you earlier than the sun ? 



o2 



196 JEPHTHAH. 

elrothan. Ten thousand thousand curses blast thee, 
wretch, 
That liest thus ! Call you these crawling vermin, 
These famished dogs, these lurking, slinking slaves, 
Who only can creep peeping from their dens 
While night can save them, Gilead's mighty chief- 
tains ? 
By all the gods ! I cannot find a man 
Among this mockery of nature's lords. 
Are these your chiefs ? Fit chiefs, fit warriors. 

mattatha. Have Ammou's women tutored thee ? Thy 
tongue 
Cries shame upon thy sword. Curb in that weapon, 
Or I shall teach thee patience. 

elrothan. False, hunger-eaten cur ! 

Patience ! —Elrothan sullies his renown 
By looking on thee, vile Egyptian hound. 

jephthah. We but waste patience ; — greater were thy 
renown 
Than of Balak the son of Zippor : were it greater 
Than thy tongue-valour, Manasseh sets thee free. — 
Go, tell the king of Amnion's locust-swarm, 
'Ere thy winged speed can scarcely have conveyed 
Our bold defiance, Jephthah follows thee. 
Look to thy safety, 

elrothan. Thou Jephthah ? thou ? 



JEPHTHAH. 197 

Tliou the bold son of Gilead ? Thou the man 
That hast held Amnion at defiance ? Thou ? — 
No, I disdain thy bidding. Bear it thyself 
If derision do not daunt thee, gigantic chief 
Among pigmies. 



asahel enters. 

asahel. In the name of God, lead on. 

Mine eyes have seen them siezing upon their spears 
Impatient for the assault. Fame has flown swifter 
Than our precipitous speed, and Jephthah's name 
Has added myriads to our numbers. They are 
daunted. 

elrothan. Liar and slave ! 

asahel. Slave? — Liar? — 

jephthah. The intemperate tongue 

Does but defile itself. Haste with thy news. 

asahel. I have heard their counsel. I have seen them 
lead, 
In the pride of youth, and beauty, and renown, 
The eldest offspring of their rapacious king 
To the blood-stained altar of Chemosh. I have seen 
The impious father, in fanatic zeal, 
Plunge deep in blood his suicidal hand 



198 JEPHTHAH. 

And smear the image of his devil-god. 
Stung with abhorrence, with my little band 
I dashed in the midst : we overthrew their idol, 
And seized their victim ; swiftly to arms they flew 
And still press on. — 

elrothan. And has my god been cheated of his 
prey ; 
And ye exult ? — Detested, accursed dogs ! 
Whose God can only combat where the hills 
Wind their dark shadows around his coward head, 
Nor dare attack us where our thunderer 
In cloud and whirlwind rolls his iron car. 
Ye, ye exult ? — and think you that my god 
Shall want a victim ? Detested, accursed dogs ! 
He shall not want a victim to excite 
His seven-fold rage : thick-steaming from the ground 
Rivers of blood shall lure him to the slaughter, 
And horror wither your effeminate souls, 
As thus I give him Ammon's princely gore 

(Stabs himself,) 
Curse, curse them, curse them, Chemosh ! curse them. 

(Dies.) 

jephthah. Dreadful — most horrible atrocity ! 
Oh, that my strength were as an angel armed, 
To sweep their thousands from the defiled earth. 
Give but, O God of Heaven ! to my sword 
These foul, these infamous idolaters^ 
Give Israel his glut of vengeance — let me this once, 



JEPHTHAH. 199 

Let me this once deliver my loved country, 
And I will sacrifice to thee whatever 
Shall from my home first meet me — 

Onward —onward — 
The God of vengeance — the Lord God of Hosts 
Terrify and overthrow them — on, on, on. 

They rush out to the Battle. 






200 



MIZFEH OF GILEAD. 



HADASSAH, PENINAH, MAACHAH, AND VIRGINS. 



hadassah. And yet he comes not. — On the field of 
death 
Why dost thou linger ? — Unwonted 'tis with thee 
To satiate thine eye, in cruelty — 
Why contest thou not ? — The chilling dews of night 
Hung heavily on me when, with straining eyes, 
And in breathless agony, I, in vision, saw thee 
Like the red whirlwind sweeping across the desert. 
The gleaming lightning of thy plumed helm 
Danced, as a meteor on the angry bosom 



JEPHTHAH. 201 

Of the vexed ocean. Slaughter and destruction 
Rolling their livid volumes, tinged with blood, 
Preceded, and the wasting pestilence, 
Wrapt in night's mantle, followed — 

The avenging host 
Circling thy banner, bounded in fury onward; 
Tempest, and hail, and thunder winged with fire, 
Ploughed through the foe — the thick, the envenomed 

cloud 
Shrank from thee, and a deadly rain of blood 
Tracked out thy pathway. — 

Heaven, in secret heard me 
Earnestly pray. — My still-imploring hands 
Sank not, fatigued : my still-entreating tongue 
Ceased not petitioning : my streaming eye, 
Glancing alternately towards Heaven and thee, 
Quenched not it's fervour, until I joyously saw thee 
Towering still foremost : low, beneath thy feet 
The neck of Ammon piteously outstretched, 
And Heaven's glad victory encircling thee. — 
And yet thou comest not. — 

Envious heights ! 
Why do ye raise your threatening barriers 
To intercept me ? Cedars ! bow your heads, 
That, in the chequered intervals, my eyes 
May drink delight — 

He comes not yet, Peninah. 

peninah. Yet have they heard his cheerful trumpet- 
call 



202 JEPHTHAH. 

hadassah. Waits he yet 

To count his loss ? — He ever thus would wait 
And last return ; though I with fearful eyes 
Longed to embrace him. — Othniel too arrives not — 
He never stayed. — Pale, in his clotted blood 
Perhaps he lies, and Jephthah mournfully 
Bewails him. 

peninah. The last resounding note 

Of the shrill trumpet scarcely has re-choed 
From our deep defiles : the eagle's strenuous wing 
Could not 'ere this have borne them. 

hadassah. Victory and affection 

Had outstripped eagles. — Some deadly barb 
Has drank my life-blood ; and I, here lingering, 
Staunch not their wounds. 

virgins. Hark ! the proud trumpet-clang 

Calls us. — Hark ! — gladness swells the note. 

hadassah. Oh, I will drink, in unsated ecstacy 
That thrilling sound. 

peninah. So Amnion's revel rout, 

Triumphed over Israel, and the woe of thousands 
Was to one man a banquet. This our joy 
Lights the death-torch for widowed myriads. 

virgins. Envious, Peninah? 



JEPHTHAH. 203 

peninah. Not envious, yet regretting man should live 
By his fellow mortal's death : but yet rejoicing 
My Jephthah has been the honoured instrument 
Of God's righteous vengeance. Light and revelry 
Long were estranged from your keen-sparkling eyes. 

yiEGiNS. We knew not then brave Jephthah would 
arrive, 
We knew not then Hadassah would arrive, 
We knew not then Peninah would be joyful. 

peninah. *Tis but the gorgeous, hectic flush, betoken- 
ing 
A setting sun. 

maachah. Nay, nay, not so Peninah, 

The gambolling zephyrs frolic through the bowers 
Thick-strewn with roses. Merrily we dance 
To their blithe breathings. As when your native 

forests 
In stately cadence wave their majestic heads 
To the free winds of heaven, you rejoice. 

peninah- Aye, they have borne like me the bitter 
blast, 
And they like me have sheltered the afflicted. 
They see the flowers smiling at their feet 
When churlish winter flees before laughing spring, 
And I too live, to see my noble boy 
Rich in the honest spoil of victory. 



204 JEPHTHAH. 

hadassah. Do you not hear a sound of acclamation ? 
^Tis like the distant murmuring of a torrent 
On the waveless air of night. Hark ! — hark again ! 
Is it my father ? 

peninah. Nay, my child, he cannot 

Yet be so near. 

hadassah. But yet he does arrive — 

Israel has been delivered ; my father-land 
Is free. 

(She goes out) 

virgins. And go not you, Peninah, 

With us to welcome him ? 

peninah. In the tumultuous throng- 

He might overlook the features which once lighted 
Joy in his eye ; and I could not sustain 
Even unmeant neglect. In calmer hours 
My blessing shall await him. Peninah 
Was all in all to him, and now is Jephthah 
The stately oak around which my withering branches 
Cling fondly. 

virgins. Kaled awaits to greet him 

Upon the farthest ridge which skirts their path. 

hadassah re-enters. In the cedar grove 



JEPHTHAH. 205 

Our minstrels with resounding melody 

Wait to receive him. Maachah with thee 

I lead the measure, and Peninah, thou 

Throned in the honoured seat of Gilead, 

Shalt be the queen of our homage. Hadassah leads 

to thee 
Thy foster-son, and tears of gratitude— 
A son's blest gratitude shall lave thy feet. — 

virgins. One comes in haste, 

O'erstrewn with dust, and panting with dispatch. 



a warrior enters in haste. 

hadassah. Come they ? 

warrior. I ran with instant speed from Othniel. 

hadassah. And came you not from my father, 

And he with him ? Why ? wherefore comes he not ? 
He should have been the harbinger of Jephthah, 
Borne on the glowing wings of victory, 
Not sent his tiding by a limping herald. 

warrior. I left him faint and sinking with fatigue, 
Returning wearied from the close pursuit 
Of Ammon, fleeing to the uttermost bound 
Of Minnith, and the vineyards of the plain. 



206 JEPHTHAH. 

He found me, for they bad left me with the wounded, 

Yet fresh and vigorous. With speed, he cried, 

Back to Hadassah. — 

Oh, bid her, as she values Othniel, 

Not meet her father. 

hadassah. And he is wounded; I alas, not near. 

w t arrior. He is most safe, 

But bard exertion overmatched his strength. 

hadassah. Not meet my father ? 

I would have met him, had they borne him back 
Naked and bleeding ; would have kissed his wounds, 
Would have partaken of his deepest woe 
And drank the dregs of his calamity, 
Why must I not participate in his joy ? 

warrior. As it were he spake 

Upon the fragile confine of the grave. 

hadassah. Oh, I should be the scorn of infamy, 
The very make-game of detraction's tongue ; 
Be called, an envier of my father's worth 
And not his child. — Why, why not meet my father ? 

peninah. Events of unusual moment 

Could in that hour, when nature's suffering 
Contended with a victor's exultation, 
Lead so to think or speak. Mysterious as it is, 
Be advised. 



JEPHTHAH. 207 

warrior. He bade me earnestly, 

And had his strength responded to his soul, 
The flaming minister of heaven had lagged 
Behind his speed. 

hadassah. Why stayed you not ? 

warrior. He said, " Be swift," and I obeyed his word. 

peninah. Do thus, dear child. 

Meet not your father distant from this home, 
But await with me in the portal : 
If you should err, it will but make delight 
Sweeter by such restraint. — Nay, be advised. 
Impatience often mars enjoyment's edge. 

hadassah. "lis nature's call that prompts me towards 
my father. 

warrior. He, fainting, said I urge her not to meet 
him. 

hadassah. I must, I should strive to curb expecta- 
tion 
And hold in fetters all my earnest hopes. 
A cloud overshadows now my day of joy. 
Pass in, that I may commune with myself. 

(They pass into the house.) 



208 JEPHTHAH. 

Fearfully bewildering communing. Either I must 
Refrain from honouring Ammon's conqueror, 
Or do displeasure to my — to my dear, fond, kind, 
My beloved, devoted Othniel. — Oh, my poor, poor 

heart, 
It is a rending struggle, and I dare not 
Trust myself to myself, — but must let resolution 
Wait upon the moment's impulse. 

(She passes in.) 



209 



THE TRIUMPHAL SONG. 



'Tis no peaceful voice I hear, 
'Tis no friendly tongue that calls. 
Amnion howls o'er Israel's bier, 
Ammon shouts, and Israel falls, 
Falls beneath the conquering foe. 



Darkness shrouds our prostrate land, 
Darkness, dense as Egypt's night : 
Death and Terror, hand in hand, 
Sweep through the serried ranks of fight : 
Drear Desolation and her horrid train 
O'er fair Manasseh's fields, o'er Gilead's mountains 
reign, 



210 . JEPHTHAH. 

Woe, woe, distress, destruction reign ; 
Gaunt famine gnaws her rankling chain ; 
Shrill-shrieking fear, grim, wan despair 
Fill with their wail the wailing air j 
Pale, speechless horror, fixed aghast, 
Glares o'er the carnage-drenched waste 

In keenest, bitterest agony. 
No burning tears suffuse his eye, 
No widowed mother hears his sigh, 
No weeping virgin hears his moan, 
No hapless orphan's ear shrinks from hi& dying 
groan. 



Foul Amnion reigns. 



A homeless, heartless, hopeless band, 
Trembling, dejected, mute they stand, 
Nor dare uplift the frenzied eye. 






Hope, lovely, lingering, angel Hope 
Soft, soothing nurse of human woe r 



JEPHTHAH. 



211 



Drops balm on retrospection's sting, 
Bids conscience sheathe her angry teeth, 
Gives strength to meek devotion's wing, 
Bears them from this dark vale of death, 
And leads them back from Superstition's fane, 
To tread the flowery paths of righteousness again. 



They weep, — they pray 



Hark — Hark — I hear 
Havoc's fell chariot thundering near 
I hear a shriek — I hear a cry — 
I hear the peal of victory. 



I see, against a griesly band, 
Firm Jephthah resolutely stand.— 
I see him still — I hear him shout- 
Ammon flees in hideous rout — 
Slaughter leads her legions on^- 
Exult — Exult — the battle's won. 



r 2 



212 JEPHTHAH. 



Loud, the sounding hills reply, 
Glory be to God on High : 
Glory be to God on High : — 
God has given us, victory. 



*%%.***%$:*%: 



Hark \ the merry timbrels sound, 
Clashing cymbals ring around ; 
Israel's harp, and Israel's voice 
Responsive sing — rejoice, rejoice. 
Rejoice, rejoice, the valleys cry, 
Rejoice, rejoice, the hills reply; — 
Earth bounds with glee, huge ocean heaves, 
Delight gleams o'er his glancing waves, 
Yon splendid orbs exulting sing, 
Glory to heaven's eternal king. 



See, the victor comes in state, 
Elders on his steps await ; 
Virgin voices, soft and sweet 
Warrior tones in cadence meet 



JEPHTHAH. 213 

Deep, and full, and clear, and high 
Roll the broad floods of harmony, 
And sieze, and bear away my soul. 



Welcome — Welcome — Welcome. — 

JEPHTHAH, THE ELDERS, AND WARRIORS enter. 

A loud shriek is heard from the house. 
peninah and virgins. Hold — hold her 

hadassah rushes in, followed by the virgins. 

hadassah. My father ! my dear father ! 

asahel. Back — back — 

jephthah. My child ! — My child ! 

This — Oh no — no — 

hadassah. 'Tis I — Hadassah — Why avert your face? 

JEPHTHAH. Go gO — 

hadassah. Oh, tell me — tell me— tell me, oh, my 
father — 



214 .JEPHTHAH. 

Has some malignant passion bleared my look 
That yon shrink from me ? 

jephthah. Oh, my child, my child ! 

Would I had died 'ere thou had'st met me thus. 

hadassah. No, no, my father ! — I am still your child, 
As fond, as doting as the child you loved — 
Why dost thou shun me ? 

jephthah. Alas ! alas, my daughter ! 

You are in league against my happiness ; 
You mar my peace, you check me in my triumph, 
You, you plant daggers in your father's heart. 

hadassah. And have I lived, unhappily, to hear 
My father say that I offend his sight ? 

jephthah. No, no, my child — I pray you go away, 
My heart still beats with yearning tenderness : 
I love you — as a father — but — I pray you go. 

hadassah. And with your frown upon me ? 

jephthah. O ! my eternal father ! 

Why snappest thou the dearest tie of nature ? 
Why — Oh, would that I had a friend, 

To tell— 

I dearly, dearly, do most dearly love you. — - 
— That dreadful vow. 



JEPHTHAH. 215 

hadassah. What vow ? Why dreadful? 

jephthah. Give me a little space. — 

The fit of sorrow soon will have overpassed, 
And I shall speak — I will enter in 

And tell — Can, can I enter there 

Where Gilead sate, where my revered father 
Will frown upon me wheresoever I turn, 
Will scowl, will choke my trembling utterance, 
Will curse his child, as I condemn my own ? 

hadassah. What deadly spirit has overpowered 
you?— 
I never saw my father so oppressed, 
Never saw him thus. — 

jephthah. But you shall see him stand 

With impious courage, at God's holy altar, 
Shall see him bind a human sacrifice, 
Shall see him tear the vesture from her heart, 
That heart which glows in fondest love towards 

him ; 
And while her placid eye still beams upon him, 
Shall see him strike.— through that kind faithful 

heart — 
You shall see this. 

hadassah. I never saw a human sacrifice. 



216 JEPIITHAH. 

jephthah. You — you must see it — you must — you, 

Hadassah ! 
Must see a father rob his only child 

Of life — for I for he has sworn an oath, — 

And he must fulfil his oath. 

hadassah. Am I in a horrid dream ? 

I thought that I had heard my father speak to me 

Unkindly 

You — you — my father ! would not sacrifice 
An only child ? 

jephthah. I am most resolute. 

hadassah. I never, never frowned upon j^ou, my 
father ! 
I never, when the faults of childishness 
Called down displeasure, never did I say, 
Never thought you harsh. I gloried in my father; 
No sound was sweeter music than his tongue, 
No happiest countenance e'er wore such glee, 
No kinder bosom lulled me to my rest : 
It was my father, nursed, looked, spoke to me. 
I slept, I waked, I thought, I lived, for him, 
And still I think he will not injure me 
•"Though he has said it. — Will you slay me, father ? 

jephthah. I have so sworn. 

I lifted up my frantic hand to Heaven, 
And swore that I — that I would sacrifice 



JEPHTHAH. 217 

Whatever first should meet me from my home. 
You met me. — 

— You have drawn upon my head 
This dreadful curse. 

hadassah. You will not slay me. — I have heard you 
say, 
My mother, dying, charged you to protect me. 
You told her then : — I was, alas, too young 
To feel the terrors of a mother's loss, 
That you would, in the path of rectitude, 
Train me to be a lamp in Israel. 
With pious fervour oft you gazed upon me, 
And while the swollen tear trembled in your eye 
Oft called me by that beloved mother's name, 
Yet now — Alas ! oh Jephthah ! oh, my father ! 
Must you destroy me ? — 
Must you to satisfy an impious oath 

Break other oaths ? 

You swore upon my dying mother's lip 
To love me. — When sickness hung upon me, 
When foul disease spread languor o'er my cheek, 
When these sad eyes, now glistening in tears, 
Then scarcely could bear the sacred light of heaven, 
Then scarcely could penetrate the films of death 
Then scarcely could see the parent I adored ; 
Oh, then you hung, immersed in misery, 
Anxiously watching o'er my wretched couch : 
Oh, then you loved me, when a loathsome corse 
Was all you had. Now health invigorates, 



218 JEPHTHAH. 

Now joy, now transport dance upon my brow, 
Now — Oh, my honoured father ! 

You will not slay me. 

jephthah. Which way I turn, all, all is misery, 
And I, of all men am the most unhappy. 
If I forbear to execute my vow 
I then am criminal ; and if I dare 
With impious violence to drag my daughter, 
And offer an unholy sacrifice 

I then am criminal. Too much 

I have idolized thee, oh my ill-fated child. 



othniel enters. 



Oh 



Oh, that this earth would gape, would tear me from 
This fatal suffering — 

— Oh, my lord, my king ! — 
My friend — my father — 

— Oh, my lord, my king ! — 

jephthah. So do my God to me as I fulfil 
My oath. 

othniel. My father ! 

jephthah. So have I sworn — so God has pleased to 

visit 



JEPHTHAH. 219 

My oath upon me. — Holy be his name, 
Though written in my blood. — 

— He is most just 
Although I see not, with my earth-bleared sight, 
His object, or his end. — Yet, it is just, 
And I must bear the penalty of my sinful, 
My mad idolatry of my poor child — 
But, God is just — 

jiadassah. And Hadassah is his child : 

She is God's child, and Hadassah has the spirit 
Of Jephthah's child, and of God's child. She can 

yield 
Steadily, gratefully, whatever God 
Has given of life, and of all that can endear 
Life to her soul : and — O ! my heavenly father ! 
So sanctify my end that it may glorify 
Thy holiest mercies ; for thou art the God 

Of truth, of justice, of mercy. 

— Yet, oh, that I had striven 
In communing with thee, instead of trusting to 
My own frail, wilful will. — 

— Yet am I submissive 

To thy pure, thy righteous will. 

—So be it— My father ! 

It is not thy will, it is not thy self-willed deed, 
But thou art called, as Abraham, to atone 
For his sin, by Isaac's blood : — and if my blood 
Could be an expiatoiy offering for the vile 
Idolatry of Israel ; could be the grateful gift 
Of my loved father-land to the God, whose arm 



220 JEPHTHAH. 

Has, by my father's hand, redeemed my country, 
I were but too, too blessed, and would joyously, 
Eagerly add to thine oath — 

— Yet — oh, my father ! 
I have too fondly dreamt of earthly hopes ; 
Am even now too maddened in the whirl 
Of pleasure in thy triumph, to be a fit, 
A calm, unstruggling sacrifice. — Give me, I pray 

thee, 
Time to recal my senses ; to sober down 
My aspirations ; to quell, to sacrifice 
My rebellious life-craving. — 

— "With my virgin friends 
I would bewail my sad virginity, 
For two short months, within yon dreary hills, 
There to subdue, in grief and penitence, 
Each heinous sin, and so to prepare myself 
The better for God's glory — 

— Bear with me 
I pray thee ; and I will assuredly return, 
And thou shalt do with me according to 
Thine oath. 

jephthah. In bitterness, my child ! 

In grievous bitterness, must I bewail 
Thy virginity, and my childlessness. — Depart 
In the peace of God, and in God's peace, serenely 
Return. — 

He passes out. 



JEPHTHAH. 221 

ithra. Throw off these gorgeous attributes of joy, 
And sit with dust and ashes on your heads. — 
"We now have seen the extreme boundary 
Of sublunary suffering and bliss. 
We find how closely together intertwined 
Are sorrow and gladness. 

All pass out, excepting hadassah and othniel. 



othniel. I, — I have sacrificed — 

I— I have sacrificed thee — 
Yes, it was I, — but fainting nature stayed me, 
Or I had been a wall of adamant 
To hold thee back. — 

— Hadassah ! — let us flee — 
The time, the circumstance all favour us. — 
I know the track of every mountain torrent, 
I, in some darkling cave can lodge you safely. 

hadassah. Add not, nay add not to the bitter pang 
Of parting life. — I, with utmost fervency, 
Still cling to you : the fountains of my tears, 
My blood, my life, my spirit, all are yours : 
But I am still a daughter. He gave me life, 
He would have given me happiness, too large 
For mortals. — Never parent's heart 

Yearned towards a child as towards me, Jephthalr's 

yearned. 
All righteous Heaven 



222 JEPHTHAH. 

Demands me. For this sacrifice 

The Ammonite was conquered. — 

my country's persecutor 

Fell at my father's feet ; and I am happy, 
Blessed indeed to be the testimony 

Of a whole nation's thanks ■ 

— grieve not then, Othniel I 
We yet shall meet — ■ 

othniel. Never more to part 

We have met — He shall not drag thee 

Like a brute beast thus circling thee 

I brave his vengeance. 

hadassah. Heaven' s vengeance rides 

Indignant on the winged thunderbolt 
Which blasts ingratitude. As his child he reared you, 
And as his child he loved you. — I entreat you, 
Submit with a child's reverence. 

othniel. Oh God ! — My God ! — 

Dreadfully mysterious are thy unseen ways. 

They pass out. 






223 



THE VICINITY OF MIZPEH. 



OTHNIEL. 

mahudatha enters from behind. 



mahudatha. So do I meet with fortunate occasion 
To pursue my purpose. A ready instrument 

, And in apt mood for tampering with, I find. 
Now, Jephthah ! look to thy safety. 

othniel. She met him. — 

And I am thus bereaved of my bride 
After my service ; after we were plighted, 
Were as each other. 



224 JEPHTHAH. 

mahudatha. Renowned Otlmiel I 

The red right-hand of Israel's princely host, 
A host of princes, every prince a host : 
There the true spirit of a warrior spake. 
By what right does thy chief dare rob thee of 
Thy dearest hope ? 

othntel. By the right of strength : but I am strong 
as he is 
And as fearless. — If I instantly pursue 
And bear her off, despite of his malediction, 
Who, who shall wrest her from my nervous grasp ? 

mahudatha. A virgin she was doomed to sacrifice : 
If not a virgin. — 

othneil. Polluted dog ! — thy own malignant thought 
Choke thee ! — By Heaven ! if thought or counsel 
Of harm to her once pass thy coward lip, 
I will tear thee limb from limb. 

mahudatha. I did but muse, 

And in the overflowing of compassion 
Thought aloud. — There are extremest points 
Where vice and virtue border upon each other, 
And what is vice, in common circumstance, 
Shall become heroic virtue, when circumstances 
Unusual call for correspondent action : 
It is the object sanctifies the deed. 



JEPHTHAH. 225 

othniel. Her purity would save her amidst a host 
Of savage aliens. — So do my Maker to me 
If aught of evil prompt me. — No, I would guard her 
As dragons guard barbaric treasuries ; 
As eagles hover o'er their aeries 
So would I watch around the sanctuary 
Where I would place her; and, beneath her feet, 
When death should summon us, my bones should 

he 
Enshrined. 

MAHUDATHA. Glorious patriotism 

Had found a worthier path. 

othniel. How mean you? 

mahudatha. One man takes one path up the moun- 
tain's height 
Another hews another. 

othniel. Sententiously, 

And darkly as an oracle you speak, 

mahudatha. But when the mountain's crest has been 
attained 
Little heeds either by what path he reached it : 
Or when the racer's task has been achieved 
Who counts the length of the steps upon which he 

flew? 
Means are but means, the homely scaffolding 

Q 






226 JEPHTHAH. 

Of goodliest structures, and the work itself 

Shines not less wondrously, though the labourer's 

hands 
Were rough, and his tools unsightly. 

othniel. I charge thee speak undisguisedly. 

mahudatha. But even now 

Thou hadst slain me. 

othniel. Speak, and I will hear intently. 

MAHUDATHA. Wouldest tllOU 

Compass Hadassah's safety ? 

othniel. I would deliver her, 

And save her father. 

mahudatha. We expect a prophet 

Like unto Moses. — Seraphic purity 
Glows not more brightly round the Eternal's throne 
Cherubic mildness smiles not more graciously, 
Calm dignity in Angel's gesture shone 
Not more majestically, than sweetness, grace, 
And pure ethereal intelligence 
In her are all embodied. — Fearlessness, 
Valour, heroism, or whatever else 
Is man's own glory, could not be selected 
More perfect than in Ammon's conqueror. 
(Othniel' s, not Jephthah's, was the ready hand 



JEPHTHAH. 227 

Which smote the foe-man in his fiercest pride : 
Aroer were nought, had Minnith not been subdued,) 
And might not Heaven decree the progeny 
Of such an union should lead on our armies 
To conquer the nations ? 

othniel. Thou hast stricken a chord 

Which trembled when I touched it. — I have some- 
times 
Framed such a distant vision. 

MAHUDATHA. When the oppressed Hebrew 

Sunk to the earth, He did not hesitate 
To slay the oppressor, although the Hebrews had 

been 
Nourished by Egypt. Ehud did not scruple 
To slay a tyrant. 

othniel. He was a foreigner. 

mahudatha. All tyrants must be aliens to all 
The nations of the world. Home-born or distant, 
They are the wild beasts to be hunted down, 
And I would, I would in a brother's breast 
Sheathe deep my sword, if ever he inflicted 
Wrong on his fellow-man. — Patriotism 
Is the most noble, glorious, and heroic. 
Of human virtues. Grovelling, despicable, 
All people count endurance of a wrong : — 
But I overweary you ; my talk strays far away 

q2 



228 JEPIITHAH. 

From love and tenderness, congenial thoughts 
For younger, and "warmer hearts : yet am I young, 
And warm in heart towards virtue suffering, 
Though rude in speech. 

(Steps back — but listens.) 



othniel. He loves me, though his speech 

Be blunt, and inconsiderate whether it wound 
Or soothe by it's independent honesty, 
And I should thank him, for that he means well. — 
He sware an oath, unholy in itself, 
Itself unbinding by the moody rashness 
With which it rushed unbidden to the world. — 
Should I not cut the thongs of bigotry 
And bid his soul, go free ? — Were it not worthy, 
Honest, virtuous, aye holy in it's energj^ 
Where reason blinds herself, to bind her with fetters 
'Till she unhoodwink herself ? or, should she fail, 
'Tw r ere most unreasonable to allow blinded reason 
Freedom to maim herself, — We bind the brute, 
Or even destroy him, if his wildness yield not 
To hunger, or to chastisement.-— Man, mad, 
Or, in perversity of reason, reasoning ill 
On one point, although in all else in sane health, 
Is, on that point,- as a brute, and can alone, 
As his fellow brute, be bound in wholesome chains, 
And perforce, be rendered harmless. The impious, 
The adulterer, the murderer, are injurious, 



JEPHTHAH. 229 

And dangerous madmen. Destructive in their mad- 
ness, 
Unsafe to all, all, for the common safety, 
Adjudge them worthy of death. — Were it then sin, 
To attain an end so righteous as to save 
Youth, beauty, innocence — by wholesome restraint, — 
By — by — diverting the current of his thoughts — 

By my tongue cannot master it's utterance — 

By 

(He passes out, talking confusedly.) 

mahudatha. The venom works. So speed it. 

(He passes out.) 



230 



A STREET IN MIZPEIL 



{Sitting in Sackcloth,) 



peninah. Oh, woe, woe, woe, misery unutterable, 
Intolerable woe, worse, worse than death, 
Worst of all frightful ills that can befal 
A widowed mother : wretched is my lot, 
Intolerably wretched ! 



mahudatha enters, 

mahudatha. Who, who art thou thus heard above all 
else 



JEPHTHAH. 231 

In piteous wailing ? 

peninah. Woe, woe, anguish unutterable ! 

mahudatha. What direful increase of calamity, 
Can, in this hour of national distress, 
When all but thou forget their personal griefs 
In the public sorrow, thus overpower thee ? 

peninah. Woe, woe — my child, my miserable child. 

mahudatha. If remedy there can be for thy grief, 
Behold the Judge proceeding to the Gate, 
To administer justice : he will do thee right. 

peninah. He strive to lift my load of wretchedness? 
Oh, woe, woe, woe! 

jephthah enters. 

mahudatha. Go, wretched suppliant, 

Implore his help. 

peninah. Oh, woe, woe, woe ! 

jephthah. What is thy woe ? 

peninah. Unutterable sorrow ! 



232 JEPHTHAH. 

jephthah. Bise, wretched mourner: rise, be com- 
forted. 

peninah. I had a child, but I have one no longer. 

jephthah. If Heaven have pleased to take that life 
away, 
Which Heaven alone had power to bestow, 
Take comfort : many are the ills of life 
And he escapes them best, who soonest dies. 

peninah. I had a child : he was an only child, 
And I, a widow. In that tyranny, 
Now overpast, the righteous hand of Heaven 
Called back niy husband's spirit to it's home, 
Leaving me poor, and old, and comfortless. 
I felt — that was the common misery, — 
The countless ills of poverty and famine, 
The countless terrors of a desolate life ; 
And, grief upon grief increasing, in my distress 
I sold to one, he was my next of kin, 
My child's inheritance, my whole subsistence. 
Even that poor pittance was, by the Ammonite, 
Wrenched from my grasp. To rescue us from death 
I begged the humbling bread of charity, 
And now he takes my child, the child that I have 

nursed, 
The child I looked upon, as the grateful staff 
Of my old age. — A bond-man he will be, 
And I, an outcast — woe, woe, woe is me — 



JEPHTHAH. 233 

jephthah. Just or unjust his claim, twice, twice two- 
fold, 
Will I repay him. 

peninah. He will not be repaid, 

But for a bond-slave he will have my child. 

jephthah. Suspicion is the offspring of thy fear, 
And misery traduces more than malice. 
He is not lost to the common ties of nature. 



ITHRA, GALEED, MATTATHA, AND OTHER ELDERS enter. 

ithra. Once more we come. 

jephthah. I could have spared your friendship 

From this it's importunity. My hours 
Are occupied. 

mattatha. Jephthah, we have made you 

Our Judge, and must insist upon attendance 
In that high office. 

jephthah. Trouble me no more ; 

Ye do but importune me, where I cannot, 
I dare not yield. 

ithra. We know that you were compassionate. 



234 JEPHTHAH. 

jephthah. And am so still. 

peninah. Bear witness that lie is so 

His kindness unto me. — He will redeem my child 
From bondage. — Elders of Manasseh ! 
Persuasion from your tongues must be doubly potent. 
Where I, a poor widow, have so fully sped : 
For ye are princes. 

jephthah. Ye all are fathers. Do but, as your chil- 
dren 
Are beauteous, innocent, virtuous, ennobled, 
By warm, enthusiastic, patriot zeal ; 
And in the o'erflowing of parental pride, 
Ye clasp them to your hearts; think, thus feels 
Jephthah. 

Outstretched upon their couches, 

When death, grim death, his clammy finger places 

Upon their lips, and biting desolation 

Nips,ln the blossoming, your first-blown flowers 

Your only flowers, the flowers o'er which you hung 

In silent rapture ; the dear, cherished buds 

You nursed, you tended, watched their opening 

charms, 
Watched them at noon, at eventide, at night, 
When blighting airs, when chilling dews fell thick 
And threatened to destroy them : — think, when the 

scalding tears 
Sit on your eyelids ; thus is Jephthah' s heart 
Racked. — I pray you speak no more. — 



JEPHTHAH. 235 

I am your chief. 

ithra. 'Tis an unholy offering. 

galeed. We will redeem it with our choicest flocks, 
Our herds shall bleed. The rivers of all Judea 
Shall flow with blood. Spice, frankincense, and 

myrrh, 
All the rich treasures of the plundered east 
Shall oppress the altar. 

jephthah. I cannot. 

mattatha. If human blood, if innocent blood must 
expiate 
This dreadful vow : take, from our bosoms take 
Our dearest daughters. We will give to Heaven, 
If Heaven require it, all our progeny, 
Our spoil, our wealth. — She pleaded for us, Jephthah ! 
When thou wert stern. 

peninah. You are compassionate, 

You have saved my child : the sorrow of a stranger 
Waked from her forced, unnatural lethargy 
Your natural pity. Oh, my judge, my king ! 
Have mercy upon the child of your own blood, 
Your flesh, your bone, your life. 

ithra. We kneel, we soil ourselves in dust before 
thee 



236 JEPHTHAH. 

Entreating — 

jephthah. It is the hour when Justice 

Awaits me to administer her dictates : 
There ye will see I can be as merciful 
As rigorously just. 

peninah. Refuse you then ? 

jephthah. Distressed suppliant, 

I will avenge you. At the City Gate 
I sit in judgment. 

peninah. (unveiling) Dost thou not know me, 

Jephthah ? — 
I am no widow : I have no captive son : 
I — Jephthah ! — Years have paled my wonted bloom, 
And misery sucked the health-glow from my cheek — 
I — Jephthah — am Peninah. — These withered arms 
Have held you. — Shall they be held up 
In supplication ? 

jephthah. I am most grateful, and do love 

And honor thee, my foster-mother. 

peninah. I once knew 

When Jephthah was most kind, most merciful. 
There was a time when Pity, upon that brow 
Sate like a Spirit in the beams of heaven 
To succour mortals. — The most loathsome reptile, 



JEPHTHAH. 237 

Hideous, unclean, was shielded by your presence 
From the urchin's torturing. — You have fiercely 

striven 
When but a boy, with men, with bearded men 
To save the oppressed : — and I — Jephthah ! it was 

I, 

Cherished the compassion which ennobled you. — 
I, tutored the rising of the daring spirit ; 
I, curbed the war-horse in his young career 
Taught him forbearance, when he should forbear, 
And, taught him vengeance, when he should be 

vengeful. 
And I can yet plead, in the still, calm voice 
Of gentlest mercy. — Do not stain your hand 
With innocent blood.-— You yet are merciful. — 
Brilliant amidst the dew of nature's incense 
The penitent Sun arises, celestial beams 
Play round your brow, the awakening of heaven, 
When from the veil of dark, mysterious clouds 
The effulgence of the Deity is poured, 
Glows on your cheek : — you give her to my prayer ? 

jephthah. I, in the awful presence of my Maker, 
Raised up my hand : — nor will I lower it 
Though angels weep. 

peninah. Will the tiger 

Slay her own young ? Will the gaunt hyaena 
Feast upon his offspring? — I was your mother, 
Jephthah ! 



238 JEPHTHAH. 

When you had not a mother. — I took you 
From the cold breast, you unavailingly, 
And piteously strove to milk. — From my own breast, 
I estranged my own, maturer, yet sucking child, 
Gave you my own daughter's food. 

ithra. Listen, Jephthah ! 

'Tis nature pleads. 

jephthah. I have sworn. 

mattatha. To be a murderer • — 

You sware to offer up a sacrifice — 
If it were lawful, — so all oaths are made. 

jephthah. I sware, and I recede not. — Mine was the 
oath, 
I, alone, know it's import. Thus I sware : 
Thus I perforin my vow. — Give way to me. 

pentnah. I — Jephthah ! was a mother" 

To thee, a child of shame : — more than a common 

mother's right 
Have I. — 

ithra. We, who once sinned against you, 

Entreat you not to sin against yourself, 
Entreat you not to sin against your child, 
Entreat you not to sin against your God. 



JEPHTHAH. 239 

jephthah. I have closed my ears 

To aught but duty. Resolutely suffering 
I endure. — 

peninah. Will you destroy your child ? 

(As Jephthah is passing out.) 



peninah. Unrelenting ? — so, unrelentingly 
I curse thee. — I, thy mother, here adjure 
Against thee the stores of vengeance : — be thy birth 
Blotted from record : — cursing fall upon thee : — 
Murder and bloodshed dog thee : — may the sword 

Thirst for thee : if thy field 

Yield thee an increase, blight and mildew 
Gnaw through the ear : — murrain and rot, 
Rage in thy flocks and herds : — heaven's pregnant 

dew 
Fill thee with blains : — locusts and venomous flies 
Rise with the sun, and in his setting beam 

Float venom : Leprosy, 

Cover thy head : — Consumption waste thee : — 
Gnawing rheumatism — all the dire plagues 
Beset thee : — steam from the bottomless abyss 
All Egypt's curses : — and, to fill thy cup, 
Thy future daughters be debauched, and vile, 
Thy sons be vagabonds — and — I, Peninah, pray it 
May madness seize thee : — 

I, Jephthah ! took thee up 
And nourished thee : and now I curse thee. — 



240 JEPHTHA.H. 

Madness hurry thee on, until the dread fiend 
Arm thine accursed hand against thyself. 
Die thou abhorred, a detested suicide. — 

I will lead against thee 
The bands of Ephraim : even now they pass 
The fords of Jordan : I, thy foster-mother, 
Will lead them. 

(She rushes out.) 



mittatha. O ! Israel ! — to your tents t — 

Is this the man we hold in reverence ? 
Is this the monster which enslaves our land ? 
Is he not bloody, cruel, barbarous ? 
Is he not lost to every lovely tie 
Of human nature ? — Israel, to your tents I 

asa h el. And saw you not, inconsiderate Mattatha, 
How nature struggled ? — I stand for Jephthah. 

mattatha. I, for Israel : 

I, for my country : I, to save my home 
From the brute license of a tyrant's will : 
A tyrant, who became a conqueror 
But by the valour of the men he scorns ; 
And who has conquered, but that he may wallow 
In every crime that stains humanity. 
What will he spare ? on what will he have mercy 
Who thus begins his march of cruelty ? 



JEPHTHAH. 241 

Shall we obey this thirsty maniac ? 

Shall we submit to his authority 

Who has no power to controul himself? 

Up, Israel, up, and shew yourselves like men : 

Up to your tents ! 

(The Elders rush out.) 

the people, (Without.) War, war, eternal war 

Against Jephthah. — War, war ! — 

MAHUDATHA. This too shall work for me. 

Othniel will sting the deeper ; these more surely, 
And Ephraim consummate the deed of vengeance : 
Then, Jephthah ! spurn me. — 

Nothing though I am : 
The unheeded reptile bites more certainly 
Than the opposing lion ; and my subtlety 
Shall harm thee more than the enraged tongues 
Of thousands. 

(He passes out.) 



*****#***# 



242 JEPHTHAH. 

kaled enters, leaning upon a child. 

kaled. Lead me, lead me. 

Yet but a few short moments can I strive 

And hold out against death. 

Let me lean 
Where he must pass. 

(The child leaves him.) 

jephthah enters. 

kaled. Hear me, hear me. 

jephthah. Who throngs me ? 

kaled. Your dying foster-father, 

Old Kaled. — Him you oft leant upon 
When he was strong. — Oh, stay this frantic haste \ 
Stay, — stay. 

jephthah. I cannot listen. 

kaled. It is a dying tongue, 

A feeble tongue, an unpersuasive voice. — 
Oh, would I now could speak — Jephthah ! — 

Jephthah ! 
Spare, spare your child. 

jephthah. I know your kindness, Kaled! — I am 
grateful. 



JEPHTHAH. 243 

kaled. It is a crime, it is no holy deed ; 
It is no dictate of our pure religion ; 
It is a crime, it is a crime, my Jephthali, 
Nay, go not. — I am stepping from this world, 
Into a world unknown, baffling our fancy 
Of terrible or good. — I am now 

No ardent lover pleading for his bride ; 
No wretch imploring for his worshipped gold, 
But, I am here a suppliant for your soul, 
For you, for yours. — I feel the mist of death 
Hang heavily upon me. — 
I cannot utter what my spirit prompts — 
I die — O, Jephthali ! — do not, do not slay her. — 

jephthah. Oh, have I not enough of misery? — 
Where'er I go, whate'er I look upon, 
All, all is wretchedness, and woe, and death, 
Unlimited, unceasing. — 
A hapless alien came I to the world, 
Shame, and repentance wept upon my birth, 
And I shall go hence in their company. 

kaled. Dark — dark — faint — faint. — 

jephthah. I will return to you 

And give you comfort. 

kaled. No — leave me not in death, 

Quit me not, Jephthah ! 

r2 



244 




JEPHTHAH. 






JEPHTHAH. 


I will return. 




KALED. 

Spare, 


( Throwing himself forward, 

knees, crying) 
spare her. — 


clasps Jephthah'i 
(and dies.) 



jephthah. O, God of Heaven ! restrain me. — 

Let thy thunder 
And blasting lightning strike me. 
Hide me, earth ! 
Rocks, mountains ! bury, bury, bury me ! 
Oh, Kaled ! Kaled ! My father ! Oh my father ! 



(Throws himself upon the corpse.) 






245 



A ROOM. 



jephthah, sleeping. 

othniel enters. 

othniel. He is a tyrant. — But, I was found by him, 
A poor, deserted infant : he nourished me 
With his own daughter : taught me to call him, 

father, 
Oft twined our little arms together, and fast bound 

them 
With gentlest flowers : — but — he is a tyrant ; 
He is a tyrant, cruel and barbarous, 
In this resolve, most resolutely cruel, 
And I as cruel if I interpose not 



246 JEPHTHAH. 

Whatever strength high Heaven has given me. — 
So near — and asleep ! — one, well directed blow 
Releases all. — 

— I could look upon death 
In any shape, — but tremble now 
At my own footstep. — 

Shall I, assassin like, 
Steal on the dead, when nature in security 
Locks up the senses ? — Senses which, awakened 
Will lead him on to irretrievable, 
Unending anguish. — 

jephthah. Poor little one, 

It's dear angelic gladness, lights up again 
Dreams of my own child's childhood. — 

othniel. Can he dream 

Of her he means to kill ? 

jephthah. Again thou smilest ; 

Dear little rogue. I clasp thee to my heart 
And kiss my pretty cherub. — Wilt thou be 
The staff of aged Jephthah ? — Yes, thou wilt, 
Sayest thou, my renewed life ? 

othniel, Conscience, be still — 

Be still ! — Shall I slay — murder him 
In his dream of joy? — 

jephthah. My pretty boy 



JEPHTHAH. 247 

Dear little rogue — my rosebud — my playful kid — 

othniel. Sleeping, he little recks how his foster-child 
Steals like a serpeut into his solitude 

To sting him to sting his benefactor — 

His father — 

— Awake ! awake ! 
And face me, — there is your sword, — 
Defend yourself against me — 
For I am armed against you for my bride 
Whom you tear from me. — 

— ■ Stand — defend yourself — 
I would not, like a coward, murder you 
In sleep. 

jephthah. I could have borne a vision from the dead 
With firmer resolution, than I thus meet 
The eye of Othniel. 

othniel. Draw, — defend yourself. — 

jephthah. Strike as I am — unarmed.— I will stand 
motionless. 

othniel. Surrender to me my bride, 

Or, I will seek her in your hidden soul. — 
I came not here to prate. — Surrender her 
Or — I am desperate. — She is my love, 
My bride, my wife. — You have no power o'er her, 
She is bound to me. — Surrender her — or — 



248 JEPHTHAH. 

jephthah. Young man ! stand back; there are ex- 
tremest limits 
To human endurance, — leave me. 

othniel. Or with your life, or with my bride. 

jephthah. Young man ! the man who never feared 
to meet 
Death in all shapes, stands unresisting here 
And unarmed before you. — I recapitulate 
No benefits bestowed : as a man I meet you, 
And — as a stranger ; one, I know not more. — 
I swerve not. — I am in the forward path 
Of a stern duty. Withstand, or withstand me not 
I pass on to meet my daughter. 

othniel. I interpose 

As Aaron between the living and the dead, 
I see you, dying in this sacrifice, 
I hear the voice of blood ascend to Heaven. 

jephthah. I am fast bound to Heaven, by an oath, 
An oath, written down and ratified in heaven ; 
An oath, for which I slew the Ammonite, 
An oath, for which I gained my country's freedom, 
And I will pay the utmost skekel of 
The debt I owe. — Stand not, irresolute — 
Or act, or leave me. — Know that Providence 
Protects all those who tread the inflexible; 



JEPHTHAH. 249 

Strict, perilous path of duty. — Therein do I tread 
Though it were paved with scorpions. — Go, in peace. 

othniel. I now am calm as thou art, resolute 
As thou art, in my straight-forward path 
Steady as thou art, swerving not until Heaven 
Prohibit. — So shall we part, or meet, 
In war, or in strictest amity, as Providence 
Shall guide, or overrule. Be thou in peace. 

{He passes out.) 
jephthah. Peace has ill slept upon this weary heart. 
asahel enters. 



asahel. Dark, dreary, and oppressive — the wan sun 
Weak and unwilling, struggles ineffectually 
Against the brooding mist. Thick, impenetrable 

clouds 
Lowr portentously as though nature laboured, 
And shuddered in her course. So waningly the day 
Looked down from Eden, when, guilty and miser- 
able, 
Weeping unavailingly, our sad first parents 



250 JEPHTHAH. 

Felt thorns and thistles spring beneath their 

feet. — 
So, resolutely striving, the first man, 
Bearing within his bosom unquenchable 
Remorse, toiled on his way, and, in his manly 

strength, 
Endured, and submitted ; bearing the heavy yoke 
In hope. — would, would there were here a hope. — 

jephthah. Say on, 

I can bear aught. Naj r , falter not, — thy tongue, 

Candid and not impetuous, has often 

Spoken truth, in fearlessness : sweet, yet bitter 

truth — 
Oh, that my tongue had been as wholesomely curbed. 
Say on. — 

asahel. Mattatha and the elders are enleagued, 

And straitly sworn ; and they have brave, and re- 
solved, 
Tried, war-hewn, followers. 

jephthah. So it is well with them, 

They know their duty, as I too well know mine. 

asahel. Indignant at thy insolent contempt 
Of them in joining battle, and thus grasping 
The laurel from their brows, hot Ephraim, 
Strong in their thousands, have already secured 



JEPHTHAH. 251 

The fords, and in their rage, impetuously 
Hurry onward, threatening, with hostile fire, 
To burn thee and thy house. 

jephthah. And is it well in them, 

In them, Joseph's children, womb-brethren of 

Manasseh 
To envy outcast Jephthah ? — I, and my people strove 
With Amnion, did they then deliver me ? 
Did I not put my life within my hands 
And save my country ? Wherefore would they come 
Against a man bowed down by suffering ? 
It is not well, and God shall hold them in 
His stern rebuke. 

asahel. And — 

jephthah. That averted eye, 
And tremulous lip, tell me more eloquently 
Than volumed words, thy more important warn- 
ing— 
Thou tellest me, the two months have elapsed ; 
That, faithful to her word, my daughter now 
Descends from the mountains : that, in it's lone- 
liness, 
Turned from, deserted, almost abhorred, the altar 
Of my Lord God, holy and righteous name ! 
Awaits : — and I do honour 
And love thee for thy silence. 



252 JEPHTHAH. 

— I would sit 
And meditate my prayers — 

— Go thou, my son 
As God shall guide thee. 

asahel passes out. 
jephthah sits absorbed in prayer. 



253 



AN OPEN COUNTRY. 



mahudatha, watching. 



mahudatha. It is not done,— and I, still unrevenged, 
Live yet to glut my nourished appetite. 

Though I yet have failed to sting, 

By arming against thy^life the secret hand 
Of the orphan thou hast reared ; thy injuries, 
Thy scorn, thy contempt, long-cherished, and close- 
hugged, 
And brooded over, shall not rest unrequited. — 
The Amalekite forgets not and forgives not, 
Though he might feign to be an Israelite, 



254 JEPHTHAH. 

And through long years await his determinate 

end : 
And though there lived but one, that one is stronger 
In his stealthiness, than iron -sheathed Ammon in 

his car : 
And, but I strive to make my vengeance rankle, 
And fester, and agonise, and torture, my own 

arm 
Should burst the film of my hypocrisy, 
And the veiled Israelite, start up, in his strength, 
A proud, revengeful Amalekite. — 

Be still.— 

othniel enters. 

mahudatha, Art thou resolved ? — 

othneil. Resolved, and daring, 

And trusting on thy ready arm and heart 
For counsel, and for instant aid. Thy band 
Is steady and is true ? 

mahudatha. True, firm, and steady, 

And impetuous as fasting tigers. 

othniel. Thou knowest well 

Each path and pass. Lead me, on the instant, 

on, — 
We will surprize, and carry her off, and hold 



JEPHTHAH. 255 

The tyrant at defiance. Thou knowest their way? 

mahudatha. Honouring thy worth and thy affection, 

I have watched 
Their sacred haunts ; and, as their mournful wail, 
At morn, at noon, at eventide arose, 
Have dashed the salt tears from my scalded cheek, 
For I wept — in wrath I wept : — and, but for thee, 
Had borne them off. Whither ? whither hostile 

foot 
Had never tracked them. — They were even now 
Descending from the hills, and cannot yet 
Be disentangled from them. — Rooted to the earth, 
Like sturdy wrestlers poised against each other 
In mortal struggle, o'er a precipitous path 
Stand frowning rocks, and darkly around them 

leaning, 
Rigid with anxious, breathless interest 
Overhanging mountains hem in the appalling scene ; 
And countless defiles, twining through their bowels, 
Lead to a chasm, where nature, in her sport, 
Retiring from the labour of creation, 
Has hewn a mimic semblance of all glorious, 
Resplendent visions. Through that narrow cleft 
Thy bride must pass : thence, spirited away, 
Her nearest fellow shall but miss her friend 
Unknowing how. 

othneil. Lead, lead me rapidly. 

Delay not, — point me out that secret path, 



256 JEPHTHAH. 

And I will instantaneously seize, 
And bear her off. 

mahudata. So shall I greedily 

Flesh my rich vengeance. 

[They pass out.] 



********** 



257 



A RAVINE, 



HADASSAH, AZUBAH, AND VIRGINS. 



hadassah. Fare ye well, loved hills. 

Streams, woods, and groves. In your still solitude 
Listening well pleased, God hath sent down, in 

mercy, 
His holy calmness ; and, subdued by him, 
All earthly joys, all earthly vanities, 
Absorbed, unvalued, died in my secret soul. 
I only now live, move, and act in him, 
And covet only how best to contemplate, 



258 JEPHTHAH. 

To adore, to serve him. — Sublimely as ye rear 
Cloud-piercing summits ! your age- whitened forms. 
And drink the pure dews from the transparent air, 
And greet the first blush of ascending morn, 
And glow refulgent in the mid-day sun, 
And lave ye in his evening-tempered ray, 
So shall my soul, above sublunary bliss, 
Raised and sublimed, drink in intelligence, 
And, communing with angels, be as they. — 
Fare, fare ye well, mountain, and hill, and glen, 
Torrent, and stream, and zephyr, fare ye well. 

azubah. Would that such calm, such blest serenity 
Dwelt in our bosoms. Joyous in thy own joy, 
Blest in thy bliss, happy in thy happiness, 
Pure in thy purity, wilt thou ascend 
A seraph among angels : we, bereft 
Of joy, of hope, of comfort, sitting aghast, 
Can only aggravate our desolation 
By contrasting it with thy glory. 

virgins. Oh, alas ! 

Leave us not thus. 

hadassah. It is God's holy will. 

We must bow down submissively, and bless, 
And thank, and love, and worship, and adore. 
Soon must we part ; the night of sorrowing 
Has ushered in the morning of delight, 
Soft, and unruffled by an evil thought. 



JEPHTHAH . 259 

azubah. We have been together, 

As little birds reared in one kindred nest, 
Have slept, have waked, have wept, have smiled 

together, 
And now. — 

hadassah. We part but for a short, short 

time; 
Ye still to buffet with the wild commotion 
Of life's rude surge, to steer your fragile barks 
Through shoals and quicksands ; I, to soar aloft, 
To ride on the zephyr's winglet^ or to mingle 
With the glad choristers which round the throne, 
Of God, in the inmost heaven, glorify 
And honour, and delight in him, whose love, 
The heaven of heavens in it's immensity 
Cannot contain. 



OTHNIEL, MAHUDATHA, AND FOLLOWERS, Creep WTOUnd 

them. 

othniel. So still, so fearless, while around her, all 
Are rent with auguish ! This it is to die 
In the glad certainty of future life. 

azubah. I cannot thus part from you: one common 
fate 
Has bound us and shall bind us still, for ever. 
Let me die with you ; let me die with you. 

s 2 



260 JEPHTHAH. 



OTHNIEL, MAHUDATHA, AND FOLLOWERS, VUSh in and 

seize hadassah : the virgins flee. 

hadassah. Otlmiel !— Mahudatha ! — opposite 
As the cherubic host and the swart bands 
Of the abhorred Prince of Darkness, how have ye 
Consorted in this weak, this treacherous, 
This ungrateful, this unheroic, this unaffectionate, 
This stealthy, this degrading snare ? — 

— Bad man ! from thee, 
From these,— outlawed by even the rejected, 
The enemies of all : as Ishmael wild, and fierce, 
Untameable, and only faithful each 
For self-advantage in all crime ; this covert deed, 
Fit deed for obscurity but too congenial 
To the hand, head, heart, which prompted, planned, 
And dared to put in practice : from ye all 
What other harvest could have been looked for ? — 
But that the mighty oak should have borne hemlock, 
That the majestic cedar should have yielded 
Cockle, and darnel, that the generous lion, 
That the dauntless war horse, should have enleagued 

with such, 
The insensible earth would weep. — 

Here, alone, I stand 
Unarmed, unaided, entrapped, and at your mercy, 
Yet fearless, yet untrembling, confident, secure ; 
For the dread God of Heaven, against whom 



JEPHTHAH. 261 

Ye stand arrayed, in this your sinfulness, 

Shields, guards, protects, and, if need were, would 

even 
In his all-crushing mightiness, trample upon 
And bruise ye into dust. — Before him, ye 
Are but a spider's web, and the princely eagle, 
Soaring in the sun-light, fans ye into nothing. 

I onward go, in God's strength, despite of yours. 

mahudatha. The accursed coward ! — I choke ! — some 
other — 



(He slinks away with his followers.) 



othniel. Ashamed, confounded, and abased, 

Before God and thee I beg. — Seeing the impene- 
trable, 
Unfathomable depth of man's dark heart, 
He knows the purity, the intensity 
Of the love which prompted me : — thou only can'st 
Know motives by my actions. Self-condemned, 
I stand before thee, convicted : base, and low, 
As thou art high and honoured, in my inability 
To comprehend thy exalted, thy holy obedience. 
Vile that I have been, not to have foreseen 
That she whom I loved with such blind idolatry 
Would think, would feel, would act, as only angels 



262 JEPHTHAH. 

Can act, can feel, can think. Abjectly 
I bow before thy rebuking. 

hadassah. I am most sacred, I have been set apart, 
And devoted unto God. All earthly love, 
Filial, connubial, still in my bosom live, 
But refined and made celestial. As angels love 
I love thee still ; as Angels, in their pity, 
"Weep over erring mortals, I will weep 
For the crime of thy affection, and will pray, 
As with archangelic fervour, that repentance 
May purify thy heart, so that thy sin 
May be effaced and forgotten. 

My dear, dear friends ! 
The Sun's ascent bids us to hasten onward 
Lest we overpass the hour of sacrifice. 
All shall attend me to the holy ascent ; 
Thence must I pass alone. Yet not alone, 
When my God calls me, and when angel bands 
Do honour to my footsteps, — 

Pass we on, 



HADASSAH, AZUBAH, AND THE VIRGINS 2^SS Out 



OTNIEL follows. 



******** * * 



263 



THE PLACE OF SACRIFICE. 



ITHRA, GALEED, AND OTHERS. 



jephthah enters, followed by asahel. 



ithra. Jephthah ! 

We beg not, we threaten not, but firmly, 
Respectfully, sincerely, nay lovingly, as Chiefs 
Of Israel, of Manasseh, and of Gilead, 
Or, would it move thee more, thy friends, thy 

brethren, 
Bound by the dearest ties, the dearest oaths, 
Between us, and thee, and God : we set before 

thee 
For the last time, the dreadful consequences 



26-i JEPHTHAH. 

Of thy pernicious deed. Thou art our Judge, 
We are thy subjects, strictly bound, and pledged 
Each to the other : each to serve, to honour 
Each to the utmost. — ¥e gave thee all our trust, 
Followed thee frankly ; did, and dared, as thou 
Did'st bid us do, and dare.— We give thee all our 

trust 
Even now ; love thee, confide in thee, and will 
To the uttermost limit of all human daring, 
Obey thee, and defend thee. — But, strain not 
Our fealty too tightly. — Thou art strong, 
And brave, and valiant \ head, and hand, and heart, 
One skilful warrior. Golden-tongued repute 
Delights to do thee honour, and thy might, 
Gives might, gives confidence, gives energy, 
Even to ten-thousand mighty ones, and thou, 
In each reflected, art, as one irresistible, 
Unconquerable giant. — Snap but this bond 

What art thou ? Idle were it 

To paint thy uttermost helplessness. A head 

Lopped from it's limbs, foetid, offensive, 

And only to be hidden. — This wilt thou be, 

If in disgust, in sorrow, and in shame, 

We quit thee for this crime. — A few, short years 

And the dank grass upon the oblivious grave, 

May whisper our reproach, and let it die : 

But, Jephthah ! shall the wide, reproaching world 

Pointing at thee and us with the finger of scorn, 

Cry shame, and hoot us ? Shall the Gentile dogs 

Moab, and Ammon, Philistia, Amalek, 



JEPHTHAH. 265 

Say that we burnt their bestial images, 

Overthrew their altars, hewed down their sacred 

groves, 
Held in abhorrence their idolatry, 
And execrated their cruel sacrifices, 

And then insulted the God of purity, 

Of mercy, and of pity, by a loathed, 

A human sacrifice ? — No, Jephthah ! no — 

That God of mercy weeps ; — we weep our prayers 

For thy child, 

jephthah. Let me pass on, I pray you. 

galeed. Jephthah ! my little ones 

Owe their lives to God, and to thee. Would God, 

that they, 
And I, and all of us had never lived 
To see this dreadful day !— If it were a duty, 
If the oath be sacred, if it be ratified 
In heaven's archives — break thy wicked oath 
And throw us all upon the plenteous mercy 
Of the dread Lord God, holy and merciful. 



peninah enters. 

peninah. Talk not to him of mercy : Mercy died 
When he first drew breath : his heart, his soul, his 

blood, 
Are seared, and exist not ; and he stands, the 

laughter 



266 JEPHTHAH. 

The exultation of demons — 

Murderer ! 

Trample on the breasts which fed thee. 



(She throws herself down in his path.) 



mattatha enters with the conspirators. 

mattatha. Strike — strike — he knows no mercy — do 
not spare — 
But strike — strike home — 



hadassah enters, othniel folloiving, they recede. 



had ass ah. So, daunted stood 

The Evil one, at Michael's rebuke. — Refrain, 
And be thyself the exemplar of that mercy, 
Which does not glibly sit upon the tongue 
And leave the heart vindictive and malignant. — 
And would'st thou sit upon the throne of God ? 
Would' st thou usurp his high prerogative 
And constitute thyself the immaculate Judge ? — 
Search in thine own heart, wring from out it's core, 
Each deep-black speck, each inmost, secret sin, 
And when thine own heart is all purity, 
Then judge thou righteously thy fellow man. — 



JEFHTH"AH\ 267 

In the mysterious guidance of God's hand, 
Have Jephthah and his daughter been selected 
As beacons for all time. — To his high will 
Resigned, submissive, glorifying ever 
His mercy, and his goodness : in his goodness 
And in his mercy, purified from all 
Terrestrial craving ; living, but to render 
Honour to him, and glory ; ready either 
For death or life as he shall bid me die 
Or live in him, I bid you all, farewell. 

Ye best can shew your kindness, by submission, 
I my affection, as I now submit. 

Father ! ascend we : — Holy Angels guard us, 
And God looks down with pleasure in our faith. 



They ascend to the Altar. 

othnjee. Oh, let me rest upon thy faithful heart, 
And bear this trial as a chastened child. 

(He leans upon asahel.^ 



268 



AT THE ALTAR. 



hadassah puts off her head-iire, and kneels. 



all. O ! God of Heaven ! in thy mercy hear, 
O ! God of Heaven ! in thy mercy save, 
Even in this extremity save, save her. 



the high priest suddenly advancing, separates 
them. 

the high priest. Jephthah ! — Hadassah ! — Children 
of one faith 
Heirs of one hope ; alike submissive to, 



JEPHTHAH. 269 

Alike resolved to bow before the will, 

As it appeared to ye both, of the Lord God, 

The mighty, the terrible, the merciful, 

The true, the living, the Eternal God : — 

Yet both alike, yet all this people alike 

Erring, yea sinning, in your ignorance, 

Ignorance, darkened, deepened, intensified, 

By Israel's besetting sin, have by your sin 

Exemplified the all-foreknowledge of 

God — who, foreseeing man's rashness, had provided 

Due remedy, and in his holy law had fixed 

The redemption of such vows. — 

Perform thy vow : — 
But, only in that way which God's pure law 
Ensanctifies — 

So Isaac was chosen, 
Was bound, — was so far offered, — but the real victim 
God had himself provided : and now, the law 
In his stead, provides for the requisite fulfilment. 

Thou hast performed thy vow. — Pure of her blood 
Live thou great Jephthah/ Judge of Israel ! — 
But for thy rashness, for thy ill-advised, 
Thy headstrong swearing, thou must part for ever, 
As though she were dead, with this thy child 

beloved. 
Devoted — she is Holy to the Lord. — 
Pure be her body, as her soul is pure : 
Live she an Angel, until Angel hosts 
Convoy her back to Heaven, whence she came. — 



270 JEPHTHAH. 

Hear, — Hear, — O, Israel ! — Bow down in the dust, 
Spread sackcloth, and strew ashes on your heads : 
Weep for your sins, and in oblation bring 
The appointed sacrifice. — Pour, pour the blood, 
Not only of fat beasts, but pour the blood 
Of your own hearts, in lowliest contrition : 
So shall your sanctified, renewed souls, 
Brink in instruction ; so shall ye have learned 
True wisdom from your chieftain's suffering ; 
And Israel's daughters, dwelling upon the theme. 
Shall to all future time lament with tears, 
With tears of thankfulness, with tears of love, 
The sad, sad tale of Jephthah's fatal vow, 



*****#**## 



271 



THE CXXXVIIth PSALM. 



(paraphrased.) 



By Babylon's, by Babylon's deep streams ; 
By Babylon's dark waters we sate down, 
And wept, in our remembrance ; wept for thee, 
Wept for thee, Sion I Sion ! wept for thee. 

On Babylon's, on Babylon's drooping trees ; 
On Babylon's drooping, melancholy trees, 
Our harps we hung. Lamentingly the wind 
Moaned, as, in misery, our harps we hung. 



272 PARAPHRASE. 

" Sing us the song, sing us the joyous- song, 
Sing us the song of Sion, when her melody 
Wakened the echoing hills." — 

" How shall we sing, 
How shall we sing the song of our Lord God 
In an estranged land ? How ? How shall we sing 
God's song, in slavery V — 

" If I forget thee, Sion ! 
If I forget thee, thee, O Jerusalem ! If I forget thee, 
Thee, City of my fathers ! may my palsied hand 
Forget her skill : may the revolting chords 
Howl in my fingers. — If I do not remember thee, 
If ever my aching memory should relax 
Her clinging unto thee, may my parched tongue 
Cleave to my mouth ! — In my simulated mirth, 
When the shrill sistrum rings, when the glancing 

feet, 
When the tinkling anklets gleam : O ! may my 

tongue 
Cleave to my mouth, if ever I thee forget, 
Pride of my fathers ! loved, loved Jerusalem \" 

" Lord God of Hosts ! dreadful Lord God of Hosts ! 
O ! God of Hosts ! remember, — in thine anger 
Remember Edom : — remember, in indignation, 
How Edom shouted ' down, down, hurl her down, 
Trample, trample in the dust her gorgeous towers, 
Scatter her, scatter her to the winds V " — 



PARAPHRASE. 273 

"O! dread Lord God ! 
Remember Edom, in thy extremest fury, 
And spare not, spare not t" — 

" Daughter of Babylon ! 
Daughter of Babylon ! Daughter of Babylon ! 
Proud, haughty, fierce, and pitiless : — O ! happy he 
That, in thy day of wasting misery, 
Shall deal to thee as thou hast dealt to us : — 
Happy, thrice happy he, who, in his vengeance, 
In his exulting vengeance, shall hurl thee down 
And trample thee, as thou hast trampled us : — 
Blessed, thrice blessed : blessed as the blazing hosts 
Of choiring Seraphim, he, whose red, righteous 

wrath, 
"Whirleth thy children, in his abhorring arms, 
And dasheth out their brains. — Glad be the rocks 
That reek, in retribution, with thy blood." 



274 



THE MOUNTAIN AND THE PALM TREE. 



Many were the suitors of the Palm-tree. The Sandy- 
Plain loved to behold her, often beguiling his solitude 
by watching her reflection in the mirage. The Foun- 
tains of the Oasis loved her, and the Fountains of the 
Oasis had not their love despised. — The Mountain 
of the North wooed the Royal maid. Exalted above 
the vapours of the world, his awful forehead glowed in 
the revering Sun. Chasms and precipices, yawning 
caverns, and frowning cliffs, added sublimity to his 
vastness. The Islands of the Ocean offered him their 



THE MOUNTAIN AND THE PALM-TREE. 275 

daughters ; but, he loved the Palm-tree, and spread 
before her his broad meads, and his ancient forests, 
his bubbling springs and his foaming cataracts .• — The 
Land of her Fathers wept for the Royal maid : the 
Fountains of the Oasis felt their souls die within them : 
but the Mountain-Crest glittered in the Rising-Sun. 
■ — Her roots were snapped, the life-sustaining fibres of 
her affection were torn asunder; often did she look 
back to the Vallies of Delight ; — but the Mountain- 
Crest was effulgent in the Mid-day Sun. — 

The Forests of the North, bowed before her stately 
height : The Lakes of the North expanded their broad 
mirrors in exultation : The Torrents of the North raised 
the shout and the Everlasting Glaciers of the North, 
echoed their acclamation. — The Lover bent over her in 
ecstasy : the Tribute of the Earth was spread beneath 
her feet : the Blessings of the Heavens descended upon 
her graceful form : — but, the Pearl drops of the Foun- 
tains of the Oasis were treasured in her heart. Still 
were they treasured although they corroded her soul. 
They were the earliest tribute of her native land. — Her 
adorer saw the drooping of her beauty : he saw the 
glories of her height decline : he clasped her to his 
bosom, but — his bosom had ribs of Ice. — His hoar 
head grew pale in the Western- Sun. — The Mists of 
Winter rolled round their gloomy shades : The Royal 
Palm-tree fell. — The Bereaved Mountain, stiffened in 
despair. — 

t2 



276 THE MOUNTAIN AND THE PALM-TREE. 

Vainly his hoarse caverns raised the Song of her 
Applause, for the Grey-grass whistled censure over her 
Narrow-House. 

Houri of Earth ! — taste with pure lips the Well of 
Instruction, and may the Honey of Counsel, brighten 
thy countenance, and fortify thy heart. 



277 



COUSIN DINAH. 



My worthy uncle Jeremy Crabtree, was one of the 
genuine boys of the Old School ; a kind of ante-dilu- 
vian, like the relics of an older world peeping through 
younger strata, wondered at for oddity, but rarely 
pecked into to prove the soundness of their hearts. 

Jeremy had been, in his day, a beau of the first- 
water; queued, snuff-boxed, gold-trimmed, and starch- 
ed to the eye-lids ; with all the modest assurance of a 
man of the first circle, all the beauties and toasts of 
former days were familiar to the eye, which, even now, 
gleamed at the recollection. The choicest spirit of his 
club, the oracle of his coffee house, the primest buck 
when half-primed, and, six-bottled, the truest blood 
that ever drew blood ; Jeremy strutted and fretted his 



;>i/» COUSIN DINAH. 

hour, escaped all the hair-breadth 'scapes of a man of 
fashion, and, at last, sobered down into a precise queer 
Old Bachelor. 

Yet, there was a something, an undefinable something 
in his whole demeanour, which marked the gentleman ; 
and strong, natural good sense had, from the varied 
scene, selected much of the good, and given to that 
which in others had been folly, an elegant piquancy 
and zest. 

Not but that Jeremy was something of a humourist : 
not but that a certain degree of crazincss in the pocket 
and the constitution, had imparted a slight tinge of 
querulousness to his temper ; but still, Avhen the wind 
was not North-East, or North-East-and- by-East, or 
South-West-and-by-Wcst ; nor a twinge of the gout, 
nor a husk of the phthisic lay snugly by watching a fit 
opportunity for holding up the hour-glass ; Jeremy 
was, in the main, a good-tempered as well as a good- 
hearted man : and — once set in the right key, the 
world lay before him coloured in the ruby hue of his 
decanter, the warmth of humanity glowed by his snug 
fire- side, and old friendship, like his fat, wheezing lap- 
dog, patted his arm and whined satisfaction in his face. 

Aunt Tabitha had long been his companion and 
counterpart, in her way; and, in some moment of 
Aveakness, or good humour, or compassion, or what you 
will, not less than three, three well-grown nieces, left 
to the charity of a wide world, found that wide world 
had a warmeorner or two in it, and that Uncle Jeremy's 
den was not one of the worst. 



COUSIN DINAH. 279 

Cousin Katherine happened to be the eldest, and as 
her good father was not overburthened with the need- 
ful, and was withal, a little economical ; she had been 
taught all the teachable things, of then thirty years 
gone by, that her younger sisters might suck honey 
from her hive, without impairing the family stock. 

But poor Kate happened not only to be so singled 
out, but also happened to be taught by a learned lady, 
for such strange things did exist even in those days ; 
but also happened, without being much of a genius, to 
have a thorough good stomach for a book, and, like 
a true trencher-woman, cut, carved, and came again 
until her very finger ends stood starched out with 
repletion. — Greek felled Hebrew, Hebrew whipped 
Chaldee, Chaldee stitched Syriac, so that, what with 
black-letter, bobbin, and stay-tape, clever Kitty Crab- 
tree degenerated into a kind of non-descript blue- 
stocking ; and, I verily believe, would have hung upon 
hand until doomsday, had not the Parson chivalrously 
taken pity on her single wretchedness, and had doubt- 
less by that time carried her off, but that, as old 
Pagan Troy stood a ten year's siege, Christian Kitty 
Crabtree could have never been so indecorous and un- 
classical as to have yielded earlier : — although scandal 
does say the first peep through the fan-sticks has, in 
the code, been set down as the regular proclamation of 
war ; and at least nineteen months, ten days and three 
quarters of an hour had elapsed ; for all that time was 
occupied chockful of sighs, wishes, tears, tremblings, 
and fits of the dolefuls, before the enemy had dared to 



280 COUSIN DINAH. 

break ground with the first, best, and dearest verb of 
the Latin Grammar. 

All these affairs went on smoothly and steadily, as 
they should do. Aunt Tabby drilled the lady, for 
Aunt Tabby, although a staid, veritable maiden-aunt, 
had not the usual feminine fierceness, and had known, 
or had heard of, or had dreamt of, or had thought 
about such like things : and Uncle Jeremy, who was a 
little partial to the Cloth, although he now and then 
slily scarified it with a joke, or cut slap through it with 
a sarcasm ; like a sturdy veteran cheered his recruit 
with the comfortable promise of a ball through his own 
brains, if he were to scruple popping a ball through any 
unlucky neighbour's who might take a fancy to his 
preserve : and the ten years' siege, might by good 
generalship possibly have been concluded in seven, and 
bare five-eighths, had not, most unfortunately, and 
inopportunely, the merry-hearted, rattle-sculled, gig- 
gling-girl Fanny, most romantically taken it into her 
head that, " she would please her eye, if she broke her 
heart/' and one moon-shiny night, bade adieu to com- 
fort, with a dashing cornet of a dashing regiment ; and 
after dashing and flashing six weary months, until, 
poverty peeping in at the door, love flew out at the 
window, and the brute dashed the illusion from her 
mind, with " If you could deceive that old fool Jeremy, 
you may deceive me ; so pack !" and the poor child, for 
she was only seventeen, was obliged to pack with all 
her sorrows, she had nothing else to pack, and to disarm 
the frown of irritated relationship by submission and 
penitence. 



COUSIN DINAH. 



281 



Poor Fanny ! — The bright eye gleamed no longer. 
The innocent, childish wit of the giddy, almost silly 
girl, sank into the hopeless blank of inanition, and the 
widowed-wife monrned over her delirium of folly, 
bitterly regretting the first imprudent step; finding, 
now that it was too late, the anxious, solicitous, but 
steady yearning of parental affection, is but a momen- 
tary trial, like the rain-cloud which fertilizes nature, 
though it may soak us to the skin — the headlong, and 
transitory riot of passion, is the maddened whirlwind 
which leaves the bones to bleach where it's satiated rage 
has thrown them. 

More than vexed, — agonized and tortured, they wept 
over the ill-fated girl, although, in her presence, kind- 
ness, and affection, soothed the pangs which they could 
not remove. Yet, bitter were the tears of my Aunt, 
and not less corrosive, though more suppressed, the 
sorrows of her good brother. 

Time however calmed them into resignation, and 
when the daily paper announced that Cornet Heartless 
had a bullet scuttled through his scull, while he was 
most praise worthily employed in trying the thickness of 
a Frenchman's, the rising tear which was dashed indig- 
nantly from the corner of his eyelid, eloquently depicted 
his detestation of the villain, subsiding into pity for the 
man. 

" Sister," said he, after recovering from the momen- 
tary spasm, " Sister, — Thank God the girl is released !" 
— and, Tabitha, most decorously subliming her pearl 
drops with the corner of an innocent lawn-kerchief, 
and, heaving her tight-laced bosom, with a sigh of 



282 COUSIN DINAH. 

decent acquiescence, echoed the grateful exclamation; 
and, after sundry twitchings, and fidgettings, and hems, 
and air's, and dear-me's ; — for she knew not how the 
observation might be received, as Jeremy was rather 
apt to be intolerant of other folks' suggestions, and the 
valour of his self-opiniation was, often, not a little 
heightened by a fit of the dismals ; as if it tacitly said, 
" Fm vexed you should find me so weak as to snivel 
like a married man/' a kind of animals whose compunc- 
tious visitings, after refusing a new gown, or growling 
at Master Jacky for puking over his fire-new waistcoat, 
Uncle Jeremy held, or affected to hold, in his most 
sovereign contempt : but — 

Heaven help him ! Aunt Tabitha had just hemmed 
out her introductory " but, brother," — when sharply 
turning round the hawthorn, then blooming in all it's 
loveliness, at the edge of the lawn, appeared a young 
man of very gentlemanly deportment. 

Apparently some eight and twenty years, and the 
kisses of a solstitial sun had embrowned his cheek and 
added fire to his dark hazel eyes. He was to them an 
entire stranger, but it was stranger still that poor old 
Chloe, whose foundered pettitoes could scarcely budge 
one after another, was puffing and whining, and 
whining and puffing, and wagging, as well as she could 
wag, the only stump of a tail she could call her own ; 
and not a soul upon earth had ever before known her 
desert her young mistresses in their morning's search for 

1 beg pardon ! The virtues of May-dew are now 

out of fashion, and dearer cosmetics than a clean, whole- 



COUSIN DINAH. 283 

some, rough towel, and a canter before breakfast, are 
more laudably introduced, to the manifest benefit of 
perfumers' gentlemen, and gentlemen perfumers. 

Now, — whether it was that Aunt Tabitha had been 
caught deshabille, or Uncle Jeremy popped upon before 
he had shaven a week's growth beneath the skin, or 
that the whole world was struck all of a heap at Chloe's 
ingratitude, certain it is, a more ominous congregation 
of formalities, never bowed at a door, half rose from a 
snug mohair-lined morning chair, or bent over a half- 
sipped breakfast-cup, than the morning parlour of Crab- 
tree-hall exhibited. 

A few short minutes, and but a few, elapsed, before, 
dashing the introductory letter to the hearth, and spring- 
ing up with an elasticity which fairly confounded Aunt 
Tabitha, and Tom, who until that moment had been 
napping-it cosily in Aunty's lap : for, be it known, 
Tabby had not that mortal antipathy to cats, which 
some timid young ladies of a certain age are apt to 
express ; heaven knows how truly, for in such mysteries 
I dive not : and Aunt Tab vigorously maintained her 
position, that the same kindness which could cherish a 
grateful animal Avould be at least equally, if not more, 
exerted in alleviating human suffering: but, whether 
that shewing were true or not, the bobs, and scrapes, 
and dips, and curtsies at the Church-porch seemed to 
bear testimony to Tabby's universal benevolence. 

But, Jeremy's ecstatic, overflowing kindness, uncon- 
scious of rheumatism, or affection Tabitha-ward, had 
nearly capsized the old lady and the tea-tackle, as with 



28i COUSIN DINAH. 

a warm grasp he welcomed the Grandson of a dear 
friend and fatherly benefactor. 

Scarcely had the commotion subsided when, some- 
what strangely, as if the opportunity had been watched 
for, entered the loves and graces of the family, bloom- 
ing, each in her own way, from the zephyred glade and 
spangled lawn. 

The eye of Dinah flashed, — and so flashed the newly- 
domiciled stranger's eye. 

Aunt Tabitha was too intent upon Tom, who sate 
cursing and swearing, with all the zeal of a moss- 
trooper, at the full strength of his wind-pipe, which 
nearly cracked with the deep whough — whough — whoo 
oo oo oo, while all her patting and scratching, and 
smoothing, and coaxing, had much ado to soften his 
melodious howl, and to conjure out a single gray- 
thrum. 

Little attention could she pay to dashes and flashes. 
But Jeremy's eye caught the glance. He had once 
been accustomed to such gleams ; and, laying two-and- 
two together, to wit, the two wags of the dog's tail, and 
the two flashes of the lady's eye, came to the four 
natural conclusions : 
That, they had seen each other before : 
That, " love me, love my dog," friendship with Chloe, 
argued anything but unfriendliness to Chloe's play- 
mate : 
That, as Chloe and he came in company, most probably 

they had together left their company : 
That, the letter of introduction was, in downright En- 
glish, a letter of recommendation : 



COUSIN DINAH. 285 

And if two and two had made five, probably 

also, he might have endeavoured to think favourably 
of one who fairly demanded a parley before he opened 
the trenches. 

As it was, — it would have been a breach of hospitality, 
such as he could never have forgiven in himself, had 
he not most earnestly invited him to dinner : — and 
then, posted off Jeremy, as fast as two over-fattened 
sleek, saucy, old, short-winded pet ponies could post, 
to sound his friend Zachary, who having had five 
daughters, had fairly matched off four-fifths of them. 

But, this was done by the sly. — It was only the 
morning' s airing, and Tabitha had not sufficiently over- 
recovered the disaster to be equipped in time ; besides 
it would not have gee'd to have betrayed to any soul 
upon Crabtree-earth, any distrust of his own judgment. 

Now, as the stranger really had only bowed, en-pas- 
sant, though Chloe, with a wicked eye to self-interest, 
and a dog's intuitive sense of dog-lovers, had only 
followed for nuts and gingerbread, the girls were in 
uttermost commotion. 

Even the young widow felt a certain fluttering. 
Steady Katherine thought it might be better to hide 
a little of the stocking, with pink-bows, and lilac- 
sashes, green -floun rings, and blue-pinkings ; while 
Dinah, pinning, and basting, and sewing, and felling, 
and stitching, and unstitching, and unbasting, and un- 
sewing, and unfelling, and unpinning, in striving to 
look disengaged just looked quite-engaged, and at last, 
sate down exhausted the very fac-simile of anxiety. 



28G COUSIN DINAH. 

To do the girl justice : if Dinah was not altogether 
the flower of the family ; the stem, and leaves, and ten- 
drils, were so prettily twined together; there was so 
much of gentleness, mingled with firmness and truly 
maiden modesty, that an acute observer could, after 
some intercourse, discover more beauty in her green 
leaves than in the gayer tints of Fanny, and more frag- 
rance than in the drier petals of Katherine. 

She was not tall, she was not graceful, she was not 
beautiful, but yet, Dinah was one of the beauties after 
my own heart, and I could not but feel a sort of sneak- 
ing kindness, a sort of something — but I had, some- 
what prematurely, shot up for seed, like a lettuce in a 
thunder-storm, to six feet three inches and a half, and 
Dinah could not, with all her shoes, muster much more 
than four feet eleven ; so that the world's dread laugh, 
laughed my kindness out of countenance, and, after 
sundry twists and contortions, turning up of eyes, and 
turning out of toes, I made an honourable retreat, and 
took up another position, as many great generals have 
laudably done before me. 

Now, notwithstanding all the Herculean, or the 
Cleopatrean exertions; notwithstanding the anxiously- 
enquiring steal in the glass, only made her anxiety 
more apparent ; Dinah prudently thought her eyes 
might flash again, did she enter the sitting-room in- 
opportunely, and, like many other cowards, at the risk 
of encountering Henry Darlington, resolved to put a 
good face upon the venture, and first to encounter an 



COUSIN DINAH. 287 

empty room, that she might with the more nonchalance 
meet the first curious eye which might enter. 

But, Dinah had reckoned without her host, and the 
first enemy she saw was Aunt Tabitha herself, firmly 
ensconced in the elbow chair, her high-heeled shoes 
comfortably resting upon the massive footstool, and her 
high stomacher, as comfortably begirting the expiring 
relics of sixty years of triumph. 

Clearing the little occasional mist from the mirrors 
of her soul, by the assistance of a tortoise-shell, gold- 
inlaid, cased-reading-glass ; Tabitha was beguiling the 
weary, weary half-hour before dinner, by decyphering 
the but half-intelligible scrawl; and, by dint of stout 
argument, and comparison of ideas between the tortoise- 
shell, gold-inlaid, cased-reading-glass, and her own real, 
but waning optics, had tolerably well comprehended it's 
meaning, until she was brought hard up by such a 
scribble-scrabble as would have beaten any rock-scored 
Runic-rhyme clean hollow. 

Vainly did she strive to pick and poke it out. Vainly 
did she rub her eyes : vainly did she rub her glass ; 
when, poor Dinah, inconsiderately intent upon every 
syllable, as, introduced by "ah, that is it," or, "it must 
mean that, if it mean anything," they crept indeter- 
minately between the interstices of her white, well- 
worn, front teeth : guessed, for in the innocence of her 
little, inexperienced heart, she thought it could be 
nothing less, and eagerly said, " Henry Darlington, 
Aunt," and, catching herself, most demurely added, 



288 COUSIN DINAH. 

"■I think it is — it looks like— like a name," — while 
Tabitha, who until that moment, so intent was she 
upon the task, knew not that a soul was near her, with 
a keen, look-me-through glance, echoed — "Henry Dar- 
lington — so so then, I think you know Mr. Henry 
Darlington." 

I would have given my best blue-stone buckles, and 
snuff-coloured waistcoat, embroidered by Cousin Dinah's 
own fair hands, to have been fairly out of her scrape. 

" Yes, — no — no — yes — I — I — " 

" Know Mr. Henry Darlington," repeated Aunt 
Tabitha, bowing with the most provoking calmness 
imaginable. 

" I think — yes — I met him — let me see — yes — I — 
last assizes, aunt, he handed me into — the race-course." 
i " Yes, and a very pretty race-course you have been 
handed into." 

" No, aunt, — not the races — into — out of— the ball- 
room, aunt." 

" Yes, yes, yes," nodding every curl of her well- 
powdered wig in accordance, as the words, with due 
precision, wound their way between the tongue, and 
the tongue's coverlet ; " Yes, yes, yes — and a most 
delightful ball-room it was, no doubt, — But this is 
Jeremiah's own management, and as I have had no- 
thing to do with it, all I can say is, that I do not con- 
sider myself responsible." 

" But, aunt— my uncle." — 

" I dare say your uncle approves it — no doubt." — 

" Indeed, aunt." — 



COUSIN DINAH. 289 

" Indeed, I do believe." 

" But, I protest—" 

" Doubtless child, there were abundant protestations, 
and I shall protest against Mr. Henry Darlington's 
sitting at my table." 

Poor Dinah had sunk upon the sofa, in the utmost 
perturbation. Aunt Tabby, who really meant no ill, 
and, but for the love of triumph over Jeremy's notion 
of prudence, would not have grieved her niece, felt a 
little alarmed, as Dinah, with streaming eyes, piteously 
cried, " Indeed, indeed, aunt, I do not act clandestinely 
— I have discouraged — indeed I have — indeed — in- 
deed," — and, in deed and in truth, had not Tabby's 
smelling-bottle, or the kind pressure against Tabby's 
bosom, or the kind pat of the cheek from Aunt Tabby's 
hand, exercised some potent charm, poor Dinah had 
made a thorough-bred nourish of it. 

But, so it luckily happened, that the pat, and the 
squeeze, and the salts, and the " Poor girl," and 
sundry other little agreeables, known only to the ini- 
tiated in the Art and Mystery of Fainting, had re- 
assured Cousin Dinah, and a kind of hysteric, forced 
laugh, had re-assured Aunt Tabby of her convales- 
cence, before my Uncle, brim-full of good humour at 
some happy discovery, returned from his dressing-room, 
whither he regularly went before dinner to review his 
masticators, and get all ready for action. 

There was a sly archness in tone, a certain 
waggery of manner, in which he sedulously uttered 
his wonder how the grandson of his college chum Bob 



290 COUSIN DINAH. 

Darlington could have possibly thought of endeavouring 
to find him out : " but, as the lad has found us, we 
must be civil to him, if it be only for the credit of the 
County, and make our beat bows as soon as we can 
decently get rid of him." 

Whether some twinge of jealousy, or rivalry, be" 
witched me at the moment, I know not ; but I felt, 
and blushed for the conscious difference between my 
listless touch, and the warm glow which animated the 
pressure of my friend's friend's grandson ; and, though 
secretly reproaching myself, still found my eyes 
watching for interchange of look or smile. 

I felt ashamed of the unworthy gratification, yet 
still felt that it was a gratification. 

There is a silvery softness in the tone, there is a 
chastened pleasure in the look, there is a beautiful 
gentleness in the demeanour of a truly modest, good, 
kind-hearted girl, that is eloquent in it's silence ; and 
the friendly, sisterly carriage of Cousin Dinah, as 
equally bestowed upon poor pill-Garlic as upon Henry 
Darlington, quite disarmed me : — and, though I had 
not the slightest reason in my male eyes to think it, 
involuntarily I felt myself wishing they might be lovers ; 
and, in the overflowing of the moment, distributed, 
with lordly munificence, all the wealth I might ever 
chance to possess, amongst their little ones. 

There was none of the thoughtless levity of Cousin 
Fanny r which, even now, almost broke through her 
grief : none of the demure yet dogmatical preciseness 
with which Cousin Katherine looked down upon her 



COUSIN DINAH. 291 

meritorious, moth-eaten swain : nothing of the fiddle- 
faddle with waist- ribbons, the fan-patting, squeezing of 
fingers, and all the stuffery of those who love to make 
love look as silly as themselves. 

I grant you there was, or I was willing to think 
there was, a difference, — it was but a shade of differ- 
ence in her dimpling, half-concealed, smile at his 
sallies, and the more-indulged pleasantry when Uncle 
Jeremy strove to set the table in a roar : and there 
was a winning gracefulness, mingled with a little con- 
scious triumph, in her acceptance of his hand to our 
evening dance. 

There was a more melting melody in her voice, min- 
gling with his manly notes, than when bearing part 
with me in our favourite duet : yet, in spite of all these 
my fancies, I verily believe no stranger could have 
supposed them lovers. 

To me it will ever be a lesson ; and if ever I metho- 
dically fall in love, as, heaven forfend me against such 
a consummation of the uncomfortables, it shall be with 
some other Cousin Dinah. 

And yet, upon reflection, Cousin Dinah's conduct 
was natural enough, and such as would have been 
pursued by any other girl of the merest common 
sense. 

My dear Dinah, as I used to call her, for the alliter- 
ation tickled my fancy, and neither dear Kate, nor dear 
Fanny, sounded half so prettily. My dear Dinah, as I 
used to call her, when a little lath of an urchin, with 
my arm round her waist, and her's across my shoul- 

u2 



292 COUSIN DINAH. 

ders, our warm cheeks gently pressing each other, we 
used to pore over The White Cat, or Puss in Boots, 
and wonder at the narrow escapes of Jack the Giant- 
Killer, long before I ever dreamt that damsels are the 
only Giant- quellers now-a-days : — my dear Dinah had 
shot up from three-feet nothing, into four feet eleven 
inches and, almost a quarter. She had not indeed the 
fascinating though rather childish laugh of Fanny; 
hut there was something decidedly attractive that dim- 
pled her slightly-coloured cheek, and lighted up those 
blueish-grey eyes, which otherwhiles slept in calm 
serenity, expressively betokening the peacefulness of 
her heart, and contrasting admirably with the keen, 
researchive look of her elder sister, whose understand- 
ing, far superior to Dinah's, was susceptible of the 
highest cultivation, yet unfortunately withered the 
female graces by shewing that she knew it was so 
susceptible. 

Dinah, it was true, had pored her pretty eyes over 
the ugly, crooked hieroglyphics, and knew as much of 
them as more evidently learned ladies. She was mistress 
enough of all minor accomplishments, to go through the 
then customary shew-offs at an evening muster : had 
a scrap-book, not quite so full of wishes for husbands, 
and pretty namby-pamby sonnets, and odes, and true 
lover's knots as Fanny's; and having Aunt Tabby's 
excellent tutelage, who shone the very essence of a 
housewife, was, quite deeply enough initiated in the 
Arcana of the Store-room to know what is good, and 
what causes it to be good. 



COUSIN DINAH. 293 

All these things, like a due course of the Mathema- 
tics, had clipped the butterfly wings of imagination, 
had given her habits of attention to herself as well as 
of attention to others, and made her one of those, 
who may indeed pass unnoticed in a ball-room, but in 
the calm, rational enjoyment of a winter's fire-side- 
party, are sure, without their own wish or effort, to 
twine round the hearts, and to win the good will of all 
around them. 

She was not one of your gaudy dragon-flies whisking 
it's glittering wings in the sun-beam, and leading poor 
fools a will-o-wisp chase after nothing; but — in short, 
if any desperate body should endeavour to wade through 
this lengthy memorandum, and can enter at all into 
my feelings, — she was the lady-bird of society. — And 
I do love lady-birds. — There is a marvellous something 
in their neat, round, polished, red shards, the black- 
ness of their corslets delicately specked with white, the 
tiny head, decked with unobtrusive antennae, and a 
harmlessness of demeanour, that steal into my very 
soul. I would not harm a lady-bird for all the other 
insects in existence ; and, hang, and doubly hang the 
wretch that would harm a human lady-bird. 

Added to all other good, and cogent reasons, exter- 
nal and internal, Cousin Dinah's carriage was doubtless 
a little, no doubt a very httle, tiny, the tiniest bit in 
the world, influenced by the consciousness that hei 
features were ripening into a trifling matronliness : — 
that the unthfinking heedlessness, which might be 
excused in a girl of fifteen, must be unpleasant, if not 



294 COUSIN DINAH. 

disgusting, in one of maturer years, — and, above all, 
perhaps there was a secret consciousness that Henry 
Darlingon was a man of sound, good, English common- 
sense j one who would look at a wife, as a being to be 
respected as well as loved ; and, often had she heard 
Uncle Jeremy's caution, that few men would forget to 
shew respect to a young woman, unless she should first 
forget to respect herself. 

Putting all these twos and twos together, I could 
not but conclude there was something perfectly natural 
in Dinah's conduct : there was something per- 
fectly natural in Henry Darlington's conduct ; and the 
only wonderment that flashed across my mind was, that 
out of some ten or a dozen fine, smart young fellows, 
fellows too who thought they lacked not a grain of un- 
derstanding, not one had struck the true chord which 
vibrated sympathetically in her soul : and that, in one 
short evening they, to wit Dinah Crabtree and Henry 
Darlington, not only knew themselves to be adapted 
for each other, but that I, who very innocently, very 
innocently indeed, knew nothing, nothing upon my — 
honour, about the affinity between eyes and hearts 
could know so too ! 

As for Uncle Jeremy, he was an old stager. He 
knew all the bumps, rubs, finger-posts, slaps, stiles, 
hedges, ditches, breakers, and break-necks, and could 
tell, in an instant, the chastened glance of real manly 
affection, amongst ten thousand nods, winks, and leers : 
- — but, that Aunt Tabi-iha, (for I had not then heard 



COUSIN DINAH. 295 

of the pumping-scene) should have stumbled upon the 
same discovery, and not fallen, neck and neckerchief 
down stairs did fairly excite my astonishment. 

That Chloe should have found it out, as dogs are apt 
enough to smell rats, was not very supernatural ; but 
that Aunt Tabby and Tabby Tom should have tolerate 1 
such a scene, aye and even look pleased at it ! ! ! — for 
Tom, not only rubbed and purred around his legs, and 
gave the knee-string a passing pat, but, in the exuber- 
ance of his gratification, leaped with his cinder-sifting 
paws upon the smart youth's lap, and vibrating the 
very extremity of his tail, looked up, complacently, in 
Dinah's face, as if the sooty-striped rascal would have 
said, " I know you are good friends," and Tabitha, 
knitting away hard and fast, in a rough canter against 
time, sate peeping, and smiling, and smiling and 
peeping, so that I verily believe, could the old girl but 
have whistled off some two and forty years, it had been 
a moot point whether she had not trotted off into 
Tabitha Darlington. 

These, these were wonderful ! 

Aye, Aye ! — all these hours of enjoyment have long 
since passed away. 

I am now verging towards my grand climacteric, 
without a wife to cheer or a daughter to console me. But, 
although I may sometimes be fidgetted by the recol- 
lection, that she might have been the sweetener of my 
cares, could I but have mustered courage enough to 
have risked my fortune ; yet, when I see her enjoying 
heartfelt pride and pleasure in the midst of her health- 



296 COUSIN DINAH. 

fill, cheerful, prosperous family, I cannot, no I cannot, 
on my soul, refrain saying, " God bless all such good 
girls as Cousin Dinah." 

TIMOTHY CRABTREE. 



CURSORY NOTES 



AS TO THE 



DEFENCE OF WESSEX, 



AGAINST THE 



PAGAN DANES AND NORTHMEN; 



FROM A.D. 851, TO 



THEIR DEFEAT BY 



ALFRED THE GREAT, 



IN A.D. 878. 



299 



CURSORY NOTES. 



The object of these notes was the elucidation, to 
myself, of the circumstances which led to Alfred's 
temporary desertion of the command, which he had so 
often and so ably exercised. They are based upon 
" Asserius de Rebus Gestis iElfredi," aided by such 
other lights as I have had access to. 

At the time of the attack of the Pagan Danes and 
their coadjutors, the various bands of Northmen, and 



300 CURSORY NOTES. 

Eastmeu of the Baltic, large portions of Britain were 
overrun -with wood, and other and very extensive por- 
tions were bog, and the whole surface appears to have 
been much moister than it now is. 

It may fairly be assumed that under such a state of 
circumstances, the lines of Roman roadway, and 
British trackway, were generally taken, by Equestrian 
armies, as best adapted for their purposes, upon enter- 
ing a country with which they were but ill acquainted ; 
and that the bog land, as it much resembled their own 
country, did not offer any serious impediment to their 
footmen ; and, being often flooded, their light boats 
could be floated over the marshes, and their heavier 
craft could traverse the streams ; so that warlike stores 
of stones and other missiles, might have readily accom- 
panied the army, and the vessels have been ready to 
aid their flight, when they were repulsed. 

The celerity of their movements may thus be readily 
accounted for, and their general line of march be pretty 
well traced, allowing for occasional deviations for the 
plunder and destruction of a monastery, or some such 
favourite amusement. 

By the same circumstances the defensive movements 
of the Christians, it is true, were at least equally facili- 
tated, excepting that the long period since the Saxons 
had engaged in piratical expeditions would naturally 
have led to inferior equipment for, and less daring skill 



CURSORY NOTES. 301 

in, maritime attack or defence ; but then, that was 
probably more than counterbalanced by that intimate 
acquaintance with the country, which enabled them to 
thread the wild forests, and to fall unexpectedly upon 
their foes. 

As to numbers they were however limited by a popu- 
lation far from abundant, and after any bloody defeat, 
had to await the growth of children into men before 
they were fit for other efforts. 

The paralysing effect too of the monkish discipline 
has to be taken into account. The Clergy while striv- 
ing to make them pious, and submissive to them, as 
their spiritual instructors, and, actuated by their own 
narrowness of mind, if not desire of dominion, would 
naturally discountenance, if not positively forbid, the 
cultivation of that daring spirit which enables men to 
defend their homes, as a disqualification for heaven. 

The Pagans, on the contrary, were trained for war- 
like deeds from their earliest days. Blood, slaughter, 
and rapine, were not only pleasures, but were the posi- 
tive means of attaining that Elysium, the Valhalla 
which they were taught to seek. Unequalled as bold 
and skilful mariners, they were almost as unequalled 
as warriors ; and, whatever were their defeats, they 
recruited their numbers from every nation of the 
North of Europe ; and there, they had the very utmost 
facilities in timber for shipping, in metals for weapons 



302 CURSORY NOTES. 

and defensive armour, and in stones, from their land, 
for the reparation of any disaster. 

The exciting conflict of Religious Opinions having 
once begun, their natural habits were rendered more 
ferocious by their desire to exterminate Christianity, 
and, the plunder obtainable from more fruitful lands, 
and from more luxurious people, made a splendid in- 
centive to their religious zeal. 

To revenge the cruel, the unmanly, the demon-like 
murder of JRagnar Lodbroc, might have been the 
object of this later attack upon Great Britain, and 
the sufficient cause of their indomitable perseverance, 
and revolting ferocity ; but religious zeal for Odin, and 
Valhalla, and thirst for possession of the fair fields of 
England, were probably the master motives. 

Although their warfare might have originated in love 
of strife, in desire for plunder, or in thirst for revenge, 
it at last became a contest of Pagan, or Christian, — 
Scandinavia, or England. 

There seem strong reasons for believing that Alfred 
had, by his own misconduct, rendered his people dis- 
affected. A noble-minded people could not have meanly 
deserted, a brave and, generally, good king; but we 
should first reckon up the Saxon losses in men and 
property during so many years of warfare, before we 
condemn either them or him for their temporary, albeit 



CURSORY NOTES. 303 

indignant submission, and we probably may find that 
their efforts were truly heroic. 

That the country was thinly peopled is tolerably cer- 
tain. Nor mountain nor marsh can maintain numerous 
tenants ; and flat lands, while covered with dense woods, 
have not much greater capability. It could therefore 
only be upon the clearings, and in the towns, that many 
could subsist ; and it is further to be borne in mind, 
that they were not merely disunited by kingdoms, or 
districts, each jealous of the others, but each district 
was disunited in itself, for the inhabitants were of 
various races, — Saxons and Norsemen, as freemen, and 
Britons, as slaves. 

Some of those slaves, in gratitude to kind masters, 
and others, from that disposition to repel invasion which 
seems to be indigenous to the soil, might have aided 
their masters manfully ; but there could scarcely have 
been other than a half allegiance, even with them, 
neutralized by some lurking hope of regaining their 
national superiority ; while others probably would join 
the enemy openly. This may be taken as a certainty, 
in some cases at least, for we read that when the Pagans 
landed in East Anglia, they did not move at once upon 
Ella, but employed their emissaries to corrupt his 
people. 



304 CUltSORY NOTES. 



Asser says that, in 851, the Pagans, in an attack 
upon Wessex, it was a mere predatory attempt ; were 
repulsed and driven away, by Ceorl, Earl of Devon, 
from Wicgambeorg, (Wembury) ; yet, their defeat at 
that point did not send them home agaiu, for they 
sailed to, and wintered in the Isle of Sheppy, waiting 
for reinforcements ; aud three hundred aud fifty ships, 
laden with men and weapons, entering the Thames, 
they at once attacked and depopulated Canterbury and 
London. It is, however, not certain that this was the 
City of London, but perhaps Sandwich, or some 
contiguous place, in Kent, of somewhat similar name. 

The destruction effected by at least four thousand 
men-at-arms, for every man they had was a determined 
and skilful warrior, must have been very great. 

Thence they marched into Mercia, probably by the 
Roman road, through St. Alban's, Towcester, and Da- 
ventry, into the very heart of that Kingdom, and to a 
point, whence, by the same description of road, they 
could move, with the utmost celerity, to every part of 
it. — There they defeated the king Beorhtulf, and the 
kingdom submitted to them. 

Having thus weakened Mercia, by slaughter and 
plunder, they returned through London, undoubtedly 
with that usual amount of devastation, which invaria- 
bly accompanied the Pagan Northmen ; and marched 



CURSORY NOTES. £05 

into Wessex, to assail the Monk-king, probably deem- 
ing him an easy prey ; doubtlessly traversing the "Roman 
road from Southwark, (Sudr-verki) towards Chichester. 
— Here, however, they failed in their object. — Ethel- 
wulf, although he had been a Monk, yet had the true 
spirit of a Saxon King ; and, gathering an army, com- 
manded by himself and his son Ethelbald, he at- 
tacked the Pagans directly that they entered the forest 
of Anderida in the Weald district, then thickly co- 
vered with oak-trees, as the soil, if left to itself, still 
naturally produces that tree abundantly. 

An entrenchment, supposed to have been occupied 
by them previous to the battle of Aclea, (the oak- 
field) now Ockley, in Surrey, is still visible upon a 
considerable and nearly circular eminence, enclosing 
eleven acres of ground, and having a double trench, 
excepting upon the South-East, South, and South- 
west, where the hill-sides are steep. 

Here the two armies fought ; and, Asser asserts that 
such an enormous slaughter had never been known 
before or since. — Flint-arrow heads, heart-shaped, and 
an inch-and^an-half long, are still met with in the 
adjoining fields. — Asser's remark as to the enormous 
slaughter, may either be taken as comparative to the 
numbers engaged, or it may have been that the Pirate- 
Kings, who then swarmed on every water, had, like the 
rapacious birds of heaven, been lured to the expected 
plunder, and swollen their army. 

x 



306 CURSORY NOTES. 

It is also said that at Battley, or Battle-bridge, in 
Surrey, a carnage of the Pagans, by the women, oc- 
curred after their defeat at Ockley. — But, whatever 
may have been the loss of the Pagans, the Christians 
must have suffered severely in proportion. 

That large re-inforcements had joined the Pagans, is 
highly probable ; for, Asser notes that a great army of 
them was beaten by Athelstan the King's son, viceroy 
of Kent, and Earl Ealhere, at Sandwich, where they lost 
nine ships ; and as the loss of ships was, in those days, 
attended by the destruction of nearly all the crew, for 
the ship Avas scarcely ever surrendered until the warriors 
and rowers had all been swept away, it is not unlikely 
that a nearly equal loss was sustained by the Christ- 



~SYc have thus three great battles in 851- 



In 853, as if it was not sufficiently destructive of the 
people to combat with such ferocious invaders, Burrhed, 
the successor of Beorhtulf, after destroying the British 
King, Merfyn Frych, in battle, still warred against his 
successor Roderic Mawr; and Ethel wulf, the Christian 
monk, was so unjust as to join his forces to those of 
Mercia. — They swept through Wales, and even pene- 



CURSORY NOTES. 307 

trated to Anglesea; but, against such a foe, their vic- 
tories must have been attended with severe loss to 
themselves, in men whom they could so ill spare. — But 
■ — they were victors ! — and Ethelwulf, in his exultation, 
strengthened their unholy alliance by giving his 
daughter Ethelswitha (Alfred's sister) in marriage to 
the Mercian, — the nuptials being right royally cele- 
brated at Cippanhamme, in Wiltshire. 

In 853, also, the Pagans made an irruption into 
Thanet, but were encountered by Ealhere, Earl of 
Kent, and Earl Huda, or Uuada, of Surrey. 

At first the Christians were successful ; but, at length, 
many on both sides, having been slain or drowned, and 
both the Christian Earls having been killed, the Pagans 
remained victors. 

In 855, a large army of Pagans passed the whole 
winter in the Isle of Thanet ; but they do not appear 
to have attacked the main land, nor do the Christians 
seem to have attempted to drive them out. 

Ethelwulf went; in this year, with a large retinue to 
Rome, taking with him his favourite son Alfred, who 
had also been sent thither, in 853, with a numerous 
train of noblemen and commoners, at which time Pope 
Leo the Fourth anointed him as a King, and either 
adopted him as a Son, or as a God-son. 



308 CURSORY NOTES. 

Ethelwulf ridiculously displayed his wealth, at Rome, 
by giviug to the Pope a crown of gold, two golden 
vessels, (Baucas), a sword decorated with gold, two 
golden images, with four Saxon dishes of silver gilt. 
Besides this he made gifts of gold to the clergy, and 
of silver to the laity. 

This unwise ostentation was followed up by his more 
foolishly, upon his return through France, taking to 
himself a young wife, Juthitta, daughter of Charles 
the French King, and grand daughter of Charlemagne ; 
and consummating his folly by placing her upon the 
throne Avith him, and thus insulting his nobles, and 
his people. 

This inconsiderate uxoriousness, led to instant and 
irreparable dissension in his kingdom : for, that, in 
consequence of their disgust at the infamously vile 
conduct of Eadburgh, queen of Mercia, and wife of 
Beorhtric, the people of the kingdom of Wessex had 
determined that they would no longer suffer a king's- 
wife to sit upon the throne, nor even to be called 
Queen. 

Ealhstan, Bishop of Sherborne, Ethelwulfs long 
tried friend, and able Prime-Minister, and Eanwulf 
the Earl of Somerset, on that account, felt themselves 
justified in combining to depose Ethelwulf, and to 
place his son Ethelbald at once upon the throne. — The 
nobles, however, would not suffer the old man to be 



CURSORY NOTES. 309 

wholly dethroned ; but, by a compromise, it was ar- 
ranged that Ethelbald should be king of Wessex, and 
that Ethelwulf should retain Kent, Surry, and Sussex. 

Although this division did not last long, for Ethel- 
wulf died in 857 : it must have sadly weakened the 
bond of union between king and people, and so far 
have materially affected the defensive strength of the 
kingdom. 

The affection of the people was still further lessened 
by the disgraceful and degrading conduct of Ethelbald, 
who soon after his kind, but weak, father's death, 
married Juthitta, that father's widow. 

It has indeed been said that upon the exhortation of 
Saint Swithin, he parted from her. Asser, however, 
does not say so, but writes that he reigned rashly, or 
in a headstrong manner, two years and a half, after 
his father's death, and died in 860. 

She did not quit England until after Ethelbald's 
death ; and she seems not, by any means, to have been 
fastidiously delicate in her choice of a husband. — First 
she married a man at least old enough to have been 
her father : then she married that old man's son ; and 
after his death, having been taken prisoner by Bald- 
win, Earl of Elanders, she without hesitation, and at 
once, consented to become his wife. 



310 CUBSORY NOTES. 

And yet, this shameless woman has had the repute 
of having been the motive cause of our Alfred's perse- 
vering attempts to acquire book-learning. 

Let us just test the truth of this. — It is said in 
Asser's work, that Alfred was twelve years old at the 
time of his beginning to read. — Let us try if a little 
consideration will not manifest that there must be some 
sad mistake in this story. 

When Ethelwulf married Juthitta, in 856, Alfred 
was in the eighth year of his age, and when his bro- 
ther Ethelbald died in 860, Asser clearly says that 
Alfred was then in the twelfth year of his 1 age. 

He says also that, beyond all his brethren, he was 
excesssively beloved hj his father and mother — that he 
was too much beloved by all — that he was uninter- 
ruptedly brought up in the King's Court, — increasing in 
infantile and boyish age, — that he was seen to be more 
comely in form, and more gracious in look, words, and 
manner than any of his brethren, — that excelling all 
others, from his very cradle, in the nobility of his 
nature, and in desire of knowledge, he filled his 
exalted mind with information, and rapidly acquired 
the arts of life — terms not very descriptive of an un- 
lettered child : — he then adds, yet to the disgrace of 
his negligent parents and tutors, he remained unac- 
quainted with letters until or beyond his twelfth 
year. 



CURSORY NOTES. 311 

Now, it must be borne in mind that, in relating the 
first inducement for this acquisition, Asser distinctly 
uses the words " mater sua," his own mother, and it 
seems to me very highly probable, if not indisputably 
evident, that it really was his own mother, and not 
Juthitta, to whom the credit is due ; and I conceive 
that the error lies in the mis-statement of his age at 
the time of this occurrence. 

Asser does not say at what time his mother died. 
Ethelwulf, the monk, could not well have been married 
earlier than 836, the year in which his father Egbert 
died, without leaving other living issue. 

Ethelwulf s wife Osburgh, Alfred's own mother, is 
described as " an exceedingly religious woman, of 
superior capacity, and of noble lineage." She bare to 
Ethelwulf three male children before Alfred, who was born 
in 849 : but there must have been a considerable inter- 
val between the births of the elder children and Alfred, 
for that in 851, Ethelbald, in conjunction with his 
father, fought the Pagans : in 851 or 852 Ethelstan 
was vice-roy of Kent : in 853 Ethelswitha was married 
to the King of Mercia, at which time if we take her 
to be the eldest born she could not have well been more 
than sixteen, unless we understand the marriage to have 
but a splendid betrothal. 

The youthfulness of the boys, when warrior or when 
vice-roy, would not much affect the question, because 



312 CUllSORY NOTES. 

that in those days, they took the field at a very early 
age, but there could scarcely have been less than 
twelve years difference between Ethelbald and Alfred, 
and eleven years between Ethelstan and Alfred. 

If Osburgh died in 855, that is, one year before 
Ethelwulf s second marriage in October 856. Alfred 
Mould then have been in his seventh year, his eldest 
brother about nineteen, and Ethelstan,* or Ethelbert, 
about eighteen. 

It might well have been that a pious and well-inform- 
ed mother, of noble birth, might have striven, by an 
attractive inducement, to allure her children into the 
acquisition of knowledge; and, the Book-man Asser, 
might well have felt it to have been disgraceful, that 
Alfred, a King's son and the pupil of a Bishop should 
not have been able to read a Saxon poem even in his 
seventh year : — mind, Asser does not say he could not 
read ; it is most probable that he had been taught to 
read the Church -language, Latin, by S within; but he 
could not read a Saxon poem, a language not much in 



* In page 6, Asser says Ethelstan the son of Ethelwnlf the 
king, but in page 14 he gives the name of Ethelberht as the 
second son of Ethelwnlf, and page 15 Ethelred appears to have 
been the third son. As Ethelstan and Ethelberht are both 
mentioned in connection with Kent, Surrey, and Sussex, it is 
possible they were the same person, unless we can suppose 
Ethelstan to have been an illegitimate son. 



CURSORY NOTES. 313 

use among Churchmen ; and Asser distinctly says, he 
took the book in his hand, went to a master and read 
it, and then returned to his mother and recited it. 

Indeed it is with me a question whether the reading 
was a matter of difficulty, that the mother's offer was 
not to him who could most readily read, but to him 
who could first understand, and recite the poem, both 
of them very distinct things from merely reading it. 

There would be nothing inconsistent in Osburgh, 
their own mother, stimulating her boys of seven up to 
nineteen years of age, to recite a Saxon poem : — but, 
if we take the circumstance to have occurred when 
Alfred was in the twelfth year of his age, and that 
Juthitta was his Minerva, there are these very material 
difficulties to be surmounted. 

When Alfred was in his twelfth year, Ethelwulf 
was dead, Juthitta was married to Ethelbald. — Ethel- 
bald must have been about twenty-four years, and 
Ethelbert about twenty-three years old. 

It is not very probable that, high-spirited Saxon 
chieftans, would, at such ages, have been sitting pinned 
even to their own mother's knee, and much less so that 
they would have been attendant upon a woman who, 
in Alfred's twelfth year was living in an unchristian if 
not an incestuous state with his elder brother : — nor 
is it very likely that Juthitta would have assumed au- 



314 CURSORY NOTES. 

thority to make such an offer to her own husband and 
stepson, the King of Wessex, or to the amiable and 
honourable Ethelbert, her stepson, and brother-in-laAV, 
then either King or Vice-King of Kent, Surrey, and 
Sussex. 

Either these difficulties must be explained away, or 
we must restore to Osburgh the credit of awakening 
her son Alfred's desire for tuition, and strip Juthitta of 
her borrowed plumage. 

It appears to me that, the origin of this popular mis- 
conception, can very readily be accounted for. — The 
Roman Numerals VII, if hastily written, may very 
easily have the two sides crossing each other, even 
but by a trifle, yet quite enough to mislead a transcri- 
ber, and lead him to write XII ; and the error having 
once occurred there would be very little chance of it's 
rectification by a reverse error, for it requires much 
less effort of the will to make an X than to make a V, 
as any person may convince himself by trying it rapidly. 
I therefore am led to believe that the popular error did 
really commence in this way, and became perpetuated 
by other transcribers, who, like modern law-writers, 
simply copied, as faithfully as they could, the words 
before them, without enquiring into their agreement or 
discordance with the body of the book . 

A.D. 860, was the first year of Ethelbald's reign, 
between which, and 864, a large army of Pagans de- 



CURSORY NOTES. 315 

populated, or laid waste the City of Winchester : but, 
as they were returning to their ships with vast spoil, 
Osric, Earl of Hampshire, and Ethelwulph, Earl of 
Berkshire, manfully intercepted them. — In a well con- 
ducted fight they instantly slew the Pagans, through- 
out the City ; and when these could no longer resist, 
they took prisoners those who had been terrified into 
flight. 

It is probable that the Pagans had landed either at 
or near to Southampton or at Porchester, from each of 
which places a Roman road led directly to Winchester ; 
but, while they were employed in plundering the place, 
it would seem that the Earl of Berkshire, also having 
the facilities of similar roads, marched directly upon 
the City, from Silchester or other point in his County, 
for that no less than three, if not four, roads in the 
Northern half of Hampshire, united at Winchester. 

In 864, the Pagans wintered in Thanet, and made, as 
was thought by their dupes, a lasting and honest treaty 
with the people of Kent, who had therein engaged' to 
pay them a sum of money for the ensurance of the 
league. The Pagans however, having thus craftily 
disarmed suspicion, secretly, and in the night, burst 
from their camp, broke the treaty and spurning at 
the promised money, for they well knew that they 
should get more by plunder than they could gain 
peaceably, wasted the whole of the eastern part of 
Kent. 



316 CURSORY NOTES. 

In 866, Ethered, or Ethelred, acceded to the throne, 
and in this year, a large array of Pagans arrived from 
Danubium, (probably Denmark,) and wintered in East- 
Anglia, with the avowed object of avenging the murder 
of Ragnar Lodbroc. 

One account is, that Ragnar having been wrecked 
iipon this coast, was murdered by order of Edmund the 
King of East-Anglia ; but Turner is of opinion that he 
was taken prisoner and murdered by Ella, King of 
Deira, or Northumberland, — Lodbroc is said to have 
landed from an open boat, during a storm, at Reed- 
ham, a patch of marsh land on the Yare, in Norfolk. — 
He might, it is true, have really been wrecked upon 
the fiat coast of Norfolk, and thence fought his way 
into Northumbria, and there have been conquered, and 
murdered by Ella. — Although Saints have been manu- 
factured out of very unfit, and very questionable 
materials, there does not seem to have been anything 
in Saint Edmund's character to countenance a sus- 
picion that he could have committed so ferocious, so 
demon-like a crime as his herdsman attributed to him ; 
but Ella, an unprincipled usurper, might well have been 
capable of so acting to an equally cruel and remorseless 
invader ; and the landing of the Pagans in East Anglia 
might have been done, advisedly, for the purpose of 
lulling Ella's suspicion of their real object. 

They wintered in East Anglia; obtained from it's 
King, horses to mount the greater part of their war- 



CURSORY NOTES. 317 

riors, that country being productive of good horses, and 
in the spring of 867, they sailed to Deira. 

They are reputed to have landed at Durnsley-bay, 
near Whitby, under Hubba, and at the Peak, near to 
Stope-brow, under Inguar. — Each chieftain is said to 
have erected the standard "Reafan" upon the top of a 
very high cliff; and they have been accused of having 
destroyed Streanshalh, or Whitby, where there was a 
Watch-Tower. 

Possibly this landing was but a stratagem further to 
destroy suspicion, and to give their attack the character 
of a mere predatory excursion. It might have had the 
object of drawing the defenders away from York and 
Beverley, or it might have been an error, and that, 
finding the coast inconvenient for landing their horses, 
although had they done so, there was a Roman road 
to lead them towards their prey; they re-embarked, 
and running past Flamborough and the Spurn-head, 
proceeded up the Humber, and landed either near to 
Kingston upon Hull, or at Brough, from both of which 
points, Roman roads led past Beverley and directly to 
York, and thence onward to Ripon, which place they 
destroyed. 

Turner says they marched from East Anglia into 
Deira ; and indeed, a part of their force might have 
passed by a Roman road from Norfolk to Huntingdon, 



318 CURSOKY NOTES. 

and thence Northward, along the main road leading 
from London to York. 



The same kind of road would also have led them on 
to the Tyne, and into the now West Riding ; so that 
they had but to follow these lines, even at a hazard as 
to their real termination, with a certainty of their lead- 
ing them most directly to some object worth attacking 
and plundering. 

In 868, they moved from York to Mercia, into which 
three Roman roads ran. Having plundered the coun- 
try they wintered at Nottingham. 

In compliance with Burrhed's supplication, Ethered 
and Alfred marched to Nottingham, having four lines 
of Roman roadway to facilitate their rapid movement, 
which having alarmed their Pagan opponents, they 
made a mutual treaty, the Pagans returned to York, 
and Ethered and Alfred returned to Wessex. 

This was then the state of affairs between the 
invaders and the defenders of Wessex. — A terrible 
famine had scourged the land and weakened it's de- 
fensive population : — Northumbria, with Yorkshire, 
had been completely conquered : — The Pagans had 
distinctly proved that, excepting it were supported by 
extrinsic aid, Mercia was entirely at their mercy : — and 
that Wessex was the only real obstacle to their final 



CURSORY NOTES. 319 

Wessex was then the last refuge of England's free- 
dom. 

In 870, the Pagans resumed their task. — Hatred of 
Christianity, and lust for the goodly plunder which 
was spread before them, led them into Lincolnshire. — 
It's marshes, and streams, and dykes, facilitated the 
progress of their craft, on the one hand, and, upon the 
other, it's Roman roadway through Lincoln and Stam- 
ford guided their horsemen. — They devastated the 
country ; destroyed the monastery and slew the monks 
of Bardeney, which was situate in a marsh upon the 
river "Witham ; and entered Kesteven, at Michaelmas : 
— but here, at the very extremity of the county, and in 
a land quaking beneath the foot-tread, they met with 
a most determined resistance. 

To save their own homes, and doubtless urged on by 
the superiors of the Monasteries, to defend those sacred 
places from spoliation; Earl Algar, to whom Spalding 
belonged, with his two seneschals Wibert and Leofric, 
and all the youth of Hoiland, and those of Deeping, 
Langtoft, and Boston, three hundred in all ; with the 
aid of two hundred from Croyland monastery ; of Mor- 
card, Lord of Brunne, (midway between Market Deep- 
ing and Eolkingham,) with his undaunted family; of 
five hundred under Osgot, Sheriff of Lincoln ; of five 
hundred under Tolius, an ancient warrior who had 
assumed the cowl; of Harding of Rehale and the 
citizens of Stamford, and men from Sutton and Ged- 
ney ; stayed their progress for two days. 



320 CURSORY REMARKS. 

The Pagans appear to have entrenched themselves at 
a spot South-east of Folkingham. 

Upon the first day, three of the Pagan kings were 
slain, and were buried early the next morning at 
Trekingham, two miles north from Folkingham : — but 
upon the second day, Godrun, Bacseg, Oskitul, Half- 
den, aud Arnond, with Freuar, Inguar, Ubbo, and 
the two Sidrocs, with their forces, and bringing in 
immense spoil and numerous prisoners, rejoined their 
comrades. 

Towards the close of a well-fought day, in which the 
cool, brave, and well-compacted Saxon footmen had 
constantly repelled the northern horsemen, the Christ- 
ians lost their advantage by a feigned flight of the 
Pagans ; they unfortunately, broke from their disci- 
plined order, notwithstanding the urgent entreaty of 
their commanders, and were then easily conquered in 
detail, and were nearly all slain. 

Their cowardly king had not even attempted to assist 
them : — it was the daring defence of private patriotism 
against local hostile aggression. 

The fugitives only escaped by the friendly aid of 
woods and marsh lands. Croyland and Peterborough 
monasteries were despoiled, and burnt, and all their 
inmates brutally butchered. 



CURSORY NOTES. 321 

Thence the Pagans, and also by a Roman roadway, 
reached Huntingdon, whence, by a Roman road they 
reached Cambridge, and thence passed along a branch 
road to Ely, where the nuns heroically mutilated their 
faces to preserve their chastity ; or, part of the Pagans 
might have crossed the fens, or have gone in boats 
from Peterborough to Ely. 

By the course of the Lesser Ouse, if not by some 
line of, yet untraced, Roman road, across Suffolk, but 
which is met with in Norfolk between Castor, (Venta 
Icenorum) and Thetford ; they marched on to Thetford, 
then a Royal residence, and Hoxne (Eglesden) at that 
time the residence of Edmund the King; and there 
they were joined by Ingwar and Hubba, who had re- 
turned from an irruption into Scotland. 

Turner doubts at least, if not disbelieves, that 
Edmund defended himself at all, but Asser and others 
say that he fought a sanguinary battle with them at 
Snareshill, near to Thetford, but having been beaten, 
he became dispirited, resigned himself to that which he 
deemed to be the will of Providence, and resolved 
never to fight again. 

His martyrdom is said to have taken place at Fram- 
lingham, but he was buried at Hoxne. 

Now all was ready for a determined dash upon 
Wessex. 



322 CURSORY NOTES. 

The Pagan army had indeed been temporarily rein- 
forced by Ingwar and Hubba ; but, having established 
Godrun as King of East Anglia, they returned to 
Northumbria. 

In 871, the Pagans under Halfden and Bacseg, 
quitted East Anglia, and, attacking Wessex, pene- 
trated as far as to Heading. — Their line of march pro- 
bably ran along the Roman roadway from Venta Iceno- 
rum or Castor, in Norfolk, which lies between Thetford 
and Hoxne, to Sitomagus in Suffolk, and thence to 
Colonia or Colchester, in Essex, for doubtless there were 
roads to connect those stations : — Thence they had to 
pass through Essex to London, and thence, by the 
continuous Roman road across Middlesex, into and 
across Berkshire, towards Silchester, from which they 
probably made a short cut across the country to Read- 
ing, of which they possessed themselves. 

It is not unlikely that the circumstance of it's being 
a Royal-town, led them to make their dash first upon 
it, that it's conquest might the more intimidate the 
populace. 

According to the Danish custom, — for, if one can 
form a just opinion from the Heimskringla, entrench- 
ment does not appear to have been often resorted to by 
Norsemen, who only stood up like good bold fellows 
behind their shields, and sometimes even fenced a field 
round with wands, and there fought it out honestly ; — « 
the Pagans set to work to entrench themselves by cut- 



CtftSdRY NOTES. 328 

ting a ditch from the Kennet to the Thames, and^ 
Upon the third day, merely leaving part of their army 
to complete the trench, the larger part rode out to 
plunder the country. 

Although the irruption was manifestly a surprise i 
Ethelwulph, the brave Earl of Berkshire, intercepted 
them at Englefield, about five miles west of Reading, 
A desperate battle ensued. After a hard and long 
struggle, one of the Pagan Earls, and the greater part 
of their band having been slain, the others fled, and 
the Christians, in Asser's phrase, remained masters of 
the field of death. 

After four days, Ethered the King, and Alfred his 
brother, having assembled their men, joined their 
forces and marched towards Reading. — As Wantage 
was a Royal-town, and as Lambourne was Alfred's 
own property, it is not unlikely that the brothers were 
each then resident in his own place, and that they 
United and marched along the Portway, or the Ridge- 
way, to the Thames, and then, by it's banks, to Read- 
ing. 

They appear to have turned the Danish trench,, 
which might have been unfinished, to have slain or 
overthrown all the Pagans who were withoutside of, 
and to have penetrated to the very gate of the CitadeL 
—The Pagans, however^ did not fight slothfully. — 
Bursting from all their gates like wolves, Asser saysj 

z2 



324 CURSORY NOTES. 

all their men rushed to the fight. Fiercely and cruelly- 
it was contested on either side, but at last the Chris- 
tians turned their backs and the Pagans ruled over the 
place of death. 

Among others Earl Ethelwulph was slain there. 

After another four days, the Christians vexed with 
grief and shame, in right good will marched with all 
their forces against the Pagan army, which had moved 
forward and was posted at iEscesdun, or the Hill of 
Ash trees. 

Carrying out their principle, of striking at the 
enemy's head by attacking the Royal Towns, they 
appear to have followed up the retreating army of the 
Christians, and to have made a charge upon Wantage 
with all their force, for that it was a not only a Royal 
town, but the especial patrimony of the "West- Saxon 
Kings. 

Ethered and Alfred would naturally desire to protect 
such an important point. It is probably no unreason- 
able conjecture that the Pagans, moving along the 
Southern bank of the Thames, took possession of the 
Ridgeway, and that the Christians occupied the Port- 
way, both which ancient roads lie nearly parallel with 
each other. The high range of the Chalk hills along 
which they run was admirably fitted to shew both the 
invaders and the defenders, the beautiful country for 



CURSORY NOTES. 325 

which they had to contend : on the north from the vale 
of White Horse to Abingdon, with its tempting Abbey 
near to the Thames : on the south and east, the rich 
lands reaching to Windsor on the east, and to the downs 
of the south of Berkshire, and of the north of Hamp- 
shire on the South. 

The exact place of conflict cannot now be expected 
to be ascertained, but any part of the Bidgeway would 
probably bear out Asser's statement that Alfred charged 
the Pagans from the lower ground. 

The Pagans divided themselves into two bands, and 
prepared their Testudo or Shield-fence, and levelled 
their lances, giving the command of one band to their 
two kings Halfden and Boegsceg (as Asser here writes 
it) and of the other to all their Earls. 

The Christians, perceiving this, also divided them- 
selves into two bands, and as rapidly formed their 
shield-fence. — Alfred, however, with his band, quickly 
reached the battle ground, while his brother, Ethered, 
remained within his tent, hearing mass, and earnestly 
declaring that he would not quit it until the priest 
should have finished the prayers ; and that he would 
not desert the service of God for that of men. 

The Christians had decided that Ethered, with his 
forces, should engage in battle with the two Pagan 
Kings, and that Alfred, with his cohort, should com- 
bat all the Pagan generals. 



326 CURSORY NOTES. 

Things being so disposed on either side ; the King 
having remained too long in prayer, and the Pagan 
army having reached the place of contest ; Alfred, 
then only second in command, still felt that he could 
no longer delay making the attack. He had only to 
choose between receding from the fight by a backward 
movement, or to throw himself upon the enemy before 
his brother's arrival in the field. 

Asser says, that, daringly as a wild boar, he at length, 
as they had before proposed, although the king had 
not yet arrived, directed the Christian forces against 
the opposing army, and relying upon the divine will, 
and nobly supported by his officers, and with his 
shield-fence compacted in due order, he at once ad- 
vanced his standard against the enemy. 

But it is to be observed that the place was very irre- 
gular and ill-fitted for a warlike charge ; for the Pagans 
had pre- occupied the higher and more advantageous 
ground, while the Chistians had necessarily to direct 
their attack from the lower ground. 

It happened that at that place there was only one, 
and that a very low Thorn-tree, around which the 
opponents fought ; those acting wrongfully, and these 
combating for their country, for life, and for all it's 
enjoyments, fiercely intermingled their battle with every 
inciting outcry. 



CURSORY NOTES. 327 

When, with exceeding hatred and cruelty on both 
sides, they had for some time fought closely, the Pagans 
providentially not being able to withstand the impetu- 
osity of the Christians ; and the greater part of their 
force having been slain, and one of their two Kings, 
and five Earls, and many thousands of the Pagan 
army having fallen dead upon the field, they became 
scattered every where over the whole extent of the 
champaign of iEscesdun, and fell dead in heaps through- 
out it's width and length. 

In that battle were slain King Boegsceg, Earl Sidroc 
the elder, Earl Sidroc the younger, Earl Osbern, Earl 
Frsena, and Earl Hareld, and the whole Pagan army 
was thrown into flight, throughout the night, and even 
until the following day. The Christians pursued them 
until night, and overthrew them everywhere ; a rem- 
nant, however, escaping, and reaching their Citadel in 
Reading. This flight was more than twenty miles, as 
the crow flies. 

It is not improbable that, as at that time great part 
of every county was woodland, the whole range of 
chalk hill, although itself bare, excepting of this soli- 
tary thorn tree, the place of which is irrecoverably lost, 
was known by the name of Ash-down; and that all the 
lower ground between this range and Eeading, and 
even to Windsor, was the Champaign or meadow-land 
of Ash- down, clad here and there with those trees. 



328 CURSORY NOTES. 

After fourteen days, Ethered and Alfred alone, that 
is without their Earls, marched with an assembled 
force to Basenga, to fight the Pagans, who here en- 
countering and obstinately resisting them for a long 
time, gained the victory and remained masters of the 
field. 

After this battle, another army, from beyond sea, 
joined company with the Pagans. 

By every engagement, whether victorious or defeated, 
the King of Wessex lost his warriors, and was every 
day less able to recruit his strength; as every day 
decreased the number from which fighting men could 
be selected, in his own land ; and all external aid was 
cut off by the submission of the other kingdoms to 
their foes : while, whatever numbers the Pagans lost, 
they were soon compensated by fresh swarms, eager for 
blood and plunder. 

Asser does not mention it, but Turner, upon the 
authority of the Saxon Chronicle, says, that two months 
after this, the Christians fought another battle with 
the Pagans at Merton, which he conceives to have 
been near to Wallingford, in Berkshire, and that here 
Ethered received a mortal wound, and that, after 
Easter, he died in consequence of it, and was buried 
at the Monastery of Wimbourne in Dorsetshire. 

Turner's conjecture is so highly probable that it may 



CURSORY NOTES. 329 

be taken to be true, and that the general conception of 
the fight having occurred at Merton, in Surrey, must 
be erroneous. 

It is highly probable that, after their defeat at 
Basing, the brothers retreated to their defensive line 
in the chalk hills. It it equally probable that the 
Pagans, having been reinforced by fresh men, and 
burning for revenge, moved forward as early as they 
could. 

Ethered and Alfred, not unnaturally, would have 
taken up their old line of defence upon the Port- 
way, if not upon the Ridgeway. Their army resting 
upon the Thames would place them directly in advance 
of North Moreton and South Moreton, a strong and 
judicious position ; as one by which they would, if 
successful in their defence, secure the Monastery of 
Abingdon from plunder, or by which, if defeated, they 
could fall back upon Wantage, 

They were not only defeated, but their king was 
mortally wounded. — This circumstance might have 
deranged their defensive plan. — His piety of character 
would have led, and probably did lead him, to seek 
refuge in some religious house, where the best medical 
aid of the day was to be obtained, and where he could 
have spiritual consolation and Christian burial. 

Abingdon Monastery was near, but then it was un- 



330 CURSORY NOTES. 

safe. — By the Portway, he might have been conveyed 
close to the Ridgeway. — By the Ridgeway, a Roman 
roadway could be reached, which ran through "Win- 
chester and Andover ; from Andover a road reached to 
Old Sarum : and from Old Sarum it ran southward to 
Poole, passing close by Wimbourne minster. 

Paralysed by the strenuous defence of the Christians, 
the Pagans might have hesitated to pursue an enemy 
capable of making such desperate efforts ; and, tempted 
by the sight of Abingdon Monastery, whose plunder- 
ing by them is recorded as having occurred in this 
year ; they may readily be supposed to have staid there 
by the way, to recreate themselves with a little slaugh- 
ter and incendiarism, and to refresh themselves with 
the good cheer of the lazy, fat monks. — Such was with 
them a perfectly usual course, and in their own phrase, 
" delightful as the first kiss of a young bride." 

Having satiated themselves, they had but to follow 
the same Roman roads by which Ethered escaped. 

Alfred, to protect the Monastery, and to save his 
brother's remains from insult, had but to retrace his 
path along the same road; and, their meeting at 
Wilton, upon the Guilou, now the Willey, would thus 
be readily accounted for. 

Wilton lies but about two miles, West by South, of 
Old Sarum. 



CURSORY NOTES. 331 

In this battle at Wilton, the Pagans again practised 
their favourite trick of breaking the disciplined array 
of their enemy by a simulated flight. — Alfred had a 
very unequally less number than the Pagans, yet he 
fought so resolutely, that, finding it useless to continue 
the attacks which they had made upon the Christians, 
throughout the greater part of the day, they turned 
their backs. — The Christians becoming scattered in 
their pursuit, were suddenly turned upon, and lost the 
victory. 

To account for the inferior numbers of the Christian 
army, Asser remarks that the Saxons had fought eight 
battles within the one year, 871, against the Pagans, 
besides the innumerable daily and nightly skirmishes, 
in which Alfred, his leaders, and his people had been 
indefatigably engaged : in which, he observes that, how 
many thousands of the Pagans fell is only known to 
God, excepting that, in those eight battles, one King 
and nine of the Pagan generals fell. 

If many thousands of the Pagans had fallen, many 
thousands also of the Christians had been slain, until 
the Kingdom of Wessex must have been nearly denuded 
of fighting men. 

Asser expressly states that Alfred's force in this bat- 
tle was much too unequal in numbers to the Pagan 
army : but, even although defeated, and although so 
much inferior in numerical strength, the Christians 



332 CURSORY NOTES. 

were still strong enough, and their courage had made 
them so sufficiently respected, as to enable them to 
negotiate, and to conclude a peace with the Pagans, 
upon condition that they should quit Wessex. 

In pursuance of this compact, the Pagans did retrace 
their steps to London, and there they wintered ; and 
with them the abject Mercians made a treaty of peace, 
in 872. 

But, in 873, the Pagans, having quitted London, and 
marched into Northumbria, and there wintered, in the 
district of Lindesey (Lincolnshire), the Mercians had 
to make peace with them again. — This shews not only 
the utter prostration of spirit into which the Mercians 
had fallen ; but also how little reliance could be placed 
in treaties with the Pagans, when, without the slightest 
quarrel having been recorded, it became necessary to 
make peace, in two successive years ; unless indeed it 
were that they were merely articles of truce for definite 
periods. 

The track of the Pagans, in this movement, probably 
was by the Roman roadway through Hertfordshire, the 
Western side of Cambridgeshire, Huntingdonshire, the 
Eastern corners of Northamptonshire and Rutlandshire, 
and through Kesteven into Lindesey. 

In 874, the Pagans quitted Lindesey, probably by 
the Roman road leading from near Lincoln through 



CURSORY NOTES. 333 

Agelocum or Segelocum (Littleborough), across the 
Northern end of Nottinghamshire, past Bawtry and 
through Doncaster, and which struck into the line of 
the Ickneild street, at, or near to Wakefield, and 
thence led directly on to Hreopedum or Repton, whose 
monastery they plundered, and in which was the sacred 
Mausoleum of the Mercian Kings. 

Here they wintered. — Burghred the Mercian King 
not only fled his kingdom, but went beyond sea, to 
Rome. 

After his expulsion, the Pagans subdued the whole 
kingdom of Mercia, and set up Cleolwulf, one of Burgh- 
red's officers, as their tributary, upon the condition 
that they might resume it upon whatever day they 
should be pleased to name ; and he gave hostages, and 
pledged himself by oaths, that he would in nowise 
withstand their will, but obey them in all things. 

The utter degradation of Mercia could scarcely be 
pourtrayed in more disgraceful terms. 

In 875, the Pagans, having thus secured it's unquali- 
fied submission, quitted Hreopedun (Repton) in Mer- 
cia, and divided themselves into two bands. — One of 
these, under Halfden, took the Roman road which led 
them directly through Isurium, (Aldborough) and Cat- 
turactonium, (Catterick) and Magce, (Cliffe) and Vino- 
vium, (Binchester) and Glanobanta, (Lanchester) and 



334 CURSORY NOtfES. 

Vindomara, (Ebcliester) to Corstopium, (Corbridge 
near to Hexham:) whence the main line led them 
through Brabitancum and Brenevium (Rocester) by 
Carter-fell towards Jedburgh; arid an Eastern branch, 
from Corstopium (Corbridge) across the Roman wall, 
carried them Northward near to Dalia Alanni, (Ber- 
wick) and across the Tweed. 

Hcelfden wintered on the banks of the Tyne, and 
subjugated Bernicia, or the remainder of the then 
extent of Northumberland and also the South of 
Scotland, destroying the Picts and the Stratduttensi, 
or Strathclwyd Britons. 

The British King fled to Ireland from their attacks, 
but Hcelfden having most treacherously slain Olaf, one 
of his own officers, himself fell in a battle with the 
race of the Fingalls, in 876. 

The other band, under Gothrun, Osscytil and Amund, 
three of the Pagan Kings, marched to and wintered in 
Cambridge. 

The Roman roadway, by which they reached Ratoe 
(Leicester), does not appear to have been traced outj 
but, seeing that such a road is traceable from Breme- 
tonacae (Overborough) near to Kirkby-Lonsdale, in 
Westmorland, to Coccium, (Ribchester) and through 
Blackburn to Mancunium (Manchester) ; and thence, 
through Stockport, and also near by Chapel-in=the* 



CUftSORY NOTES. 385 

Firth, within four miles of, and pointing almost directly 
to the Roman station at Buxton ; and, seeing that the 
Roman roadway from Melandra Castle, near to Glossop* 
passes through the fort at Buxton, and has thence been 
traced to Brassington, and points in a direct line to 
Derventio, upon the Ickneild street, which is thirteen 
miles distant from Brassington, there . can scarcely be a 
reasonable doubt that, however now lost, there was a 
Roman road, which, connecting Derventio (near to 
Derby) with Rates, (Leicester) upon the Fossway, and 
the Via-Devana, completed the one grand line of com- 
munication, from Lancashire to Essex, even if the 
same line did not run through Westmoreland and 
Cumberland, by the way of Comangium, (Watercrook 
near Kendal), and Oleacrum, (Old Carlisle) to Tunno* 
cellum upon the So] way : — unless, indeed, it passed 
from Comangium, nearly in the present line of mail- 
road, to Penrith and so on to Carlisle, whence Road- 
ways led off to Virosidum (now Maryport) with Derven- 
tione (Pap-castle), and to Axelodunum, Cabrosentum, 
and Tunocellum (Bowness), upon the Solway Frith— 
and, as a Trunk line, on to Scotland. 

Assuming that, with so high a degree of probability 
to justify it, there was a Roman road from Derventio 
to Ratse, the march of the Pagans upon Cambridge was 
in one uninterrupted line. 

It would seem that, in the same year, some preda- 
tory Pagans had threatened Wessex, for we read that, 



336 CURSORY NOTES. 

in 875, Alfred fought with six Pagan vessels, and too* 
one of them, and that the others escaped by flight : but 
it is not improbable that they were mere roving plun- 
derers unconnected with the invading Kings. 

Having remained at Cambridge throughout the win- 
ter, probably collecting other troops and providing 
vessels for their meditated attack ; in 876, the Pagans, 
under their three Kings Gothrun, Osscytil, and Amund, 
quitted the City by night, and entered the Castle of 
Wareham, whose sacred Monastery stands between two 
rivers, the Fraw (Frome) and the Terente (Piddle) in 
the County of Durngueis (Britannice) or Thornsceta, 
(Saxonice) now Dorsetshire, and which is most safely 
situated, being only approachable on the Western side, 
where it adjoins to the main-land. 

Turner's impression is that they went by Sea to 
Wareham, while others have assumed that they moved 
overland. — Asser does not state which way they took. — 
It is more than probable that Turner is correct, in un- 
derstanding that they sailed to Wareham; because 
that it not only can scarcely be supposed they could 
have traversed the extent of country between Cam- 
bridge and Wareham, which is about one hundred and 
fifty miles as the crow flies, without encountering their 
vigilant adversary; but, it would seem that they were 
without the horses necessary for so extremely rapid a 
march, as would have made their attack upon Wareham, 
a surprize ; or they would not have needed afterwards 



CURSORY NOTES. 337 

perfidiously to have acquired theni, by the slaughter of 
Alfred's horsemen, upon the very first night after the 
Christians had been thrown off their guard by a simu- 
lated peace. 

The probabilities are so much upon the side of it's 
having been a maritime expedition, that it may fairly 
be taken as an historical fact ; accounting not only for. 
the success of their first attack, but also accounting for 
their possession of the vessels, which were subsequently 
lost during their attempt to convey part of their army 
by sea, from Wareham to Exeter. 

This maritime movement appears to have been made 
very craftily, and in a manner calculated at first to lull 
Alfred's suspicion ; and next, to render him utterly 
uncertain as to it's ultimate direction. 

By lying so long still, in Cambridge, it might have 
appeared that they only intended to consolidate their 
government of East-Anglia ; and, at the same time, to 
watch their tributary, the vice-king of Mercia.— The 
assemblage of a large fleet might indeed have excited 
suspicion as to a contemplated irruption ; but, if it had 
so done, with so extensive a sea-board to defend, Alfred 
could not well have gathered at any given point a force 
sufficient to repel them ; but could only, by stationing 
bands at vulnerable places, by manning all the beacons, 
by keeping men upon the lock-out at all the hill forts, 
which so abounded in that part of Wessex, as to have 

» A 



338 CURSORY NOTES. 

rendered it almost impossible for a hostile attack to 
have been made, by land, without instantaneous detec- 
tion ; guard against surprise, and then keep himself in 
readiness to march, from some central point, with his 
picked men, upon the menaced place. 

From the celerity with which he did move down upon 
them, so as even to prevent their throwing up entrench- 
ments ; it is not improbable that he was at the time 
near to Wilton, a point as nearly centrical, both in the 
length and in the width of Wessex, as could well have 
been selected ; and where he would have been like a 
spider in the centre of his web, with all his admonitory 
meshes around him. 

It is clearly stated that the Pagans started from Cam- 
bridge, in the night. — By the Roman road a march of 
less than fifty miles, would have brought them to 
Mercey, on the shore of the BlackAvater river, and 
close to the mouth of the Colne, upon that Estuary. — 
Standing directly across towards the North Foreland, 
they had only, by keeping just out of sight of land, 
to retain Alfred in uncertainty, until the very last 
moment. 

Thanet, Regnum, (Chichester), Portus Magnus, 
(Porchester), Clausentum, (near Southampton,) were 
all likely places to be attacked, for they had tried them 
before, and knew their vulnerability. — It is quite pos- 
sible that, knowing this, they might have anticipated 



CURSORY NOTES. 339 

that those places were then duly protected, and that 
therefore they selected a spot were not only they had 
not before landed, but from which, either by the Roman 
road from Wareham, or by that from Poole, first en- 
trenching themselves at Wareham, they could move by 
land whither they might please, or might re-embark 
and take their chance at any other unprotected place. 
— It is also quite possible that, having delighted them- 
selves by destroying the Mausoleum of the Mercian 
kings, and enjoyed its plunder, they might have wished 
to signalize their triumph, by also plundering and de- 
stroying, both Wareham Monastery and that of Wim- 
bourne, and by exhuming and dishonouring the remains 
of Ethered. 

If Alfred did foresee and skilfully counteract this 
project, it is highly creditable to that generalship for 
which he had been looked up to by his nobles and his 
people. If he did not, it was a highly providential 
circumstance that he should have been so close at hand 
as he manifestly must have been. 

His promptitude, and their possible uncertainty as 
to the forces he might have at hand, for no mention 
whatever is made of any fighting having occurred : and 
not improbably, the promptings of their own most 
consummate and unprincipled duplicity, induced them, 
not only at once to conclude a peace with him, upon 
his constantly required condition, that they should quit 
his dominions instantly; but to affirm it, not merely 

2 a 2 



34Q CURSORY NOTES. 

ljy giving hostages, but also, and as they had never 
done before, by swearing upon their Armlets, the most 
cherished insignia of their nobility, and their most 
sacred form of oath ; but also, hypocritically swearing 
upon the Christian Relics, upon the sacred nature of 
which Alfred, superstitiously, relied as much as they 
despised it. 

His noble and generous nature rendered him unsus- 
picious, and his watchfulness might thus have been 
inconsiderately remitted. — Upon the very same night 
of this doubly religious rite, when he had sworn them 
in the then Christian manner, and when they had 
sworn, of themselves, in the most sacred form, and by 
those marks of distinction which, as warriors, were most 
dear to them, and which would have bitterly, and per- 
petually reproached all honorable minds ; they, neither 
earing for oaths nor hostages, nor heeding promises, 
and disgracefully regardless of honour, surprised and 
slew all his horsemen, who had been lulled into secu- 
rity by the solemn compact which they had so recently 
witnessed. — They then, with his horses, mounted their 
troops, and precipitately marched into Exanceastre, 
(Exeter), in Domnavium, (Devonshire), on the eastern 
border of the Wise; still, however, retaining posses- 
sion of Wareham-Castle, which was impregnable to 
the attacking power of that day ; and in Exeter they 
wintered, in 876 —7. 



CURSORY NOTES. 341 

They probably had reached this City, by the Roman 
road, which led directly from Wareham to Exeter. 

By the destruction of his horse-soldiers, they had 
baffled instant pursuit ; and, doubtless, had shaken the 
confidence of the army and people in the foresight, if 
not in the judgment of their king, and thus paved the 
way for the panic terror with which they were after- 
wards seized. 

The Pagans thus established themselves at two points, 
whence they could move on either hand : — but, it is 
very apparent that they dreaded Alfred's skill, and 
valour ; and dared not measure swords with him in a 
pitched battle. — The lion had been wounded, but he 
was a terrific lion still. 

The Pagans remained, shut up in Exeter and in 
Wareham, not merely throughout the winter of 876 — 
7, but throughout all the early part of 877. — Nor was 
either party idle. — After events clearly shew, that the 
Pagans had sought aid from beyond sea, on the one 
hand, and from TJbbo their brother King on the other ; 
and, not improbably, their apparent supineness was 
only prudential, and to give time for the expected as- 
sistance. — Alfred also had diligently bestirred himself, 
not only in recruiting his army, but, in creating a 
Navy ; — and from Asser's remark that " their numbers 
increased daily, so that if thirty-thousand were slain 
in one day, others succeeded them in redoubled num. 



342 CURSORY NOTES. 

hers," it may be gathered, that not only active daily 
recruiting went on, but that there was some severe 
daily skirmishing as well. 

In the Autumn, however, of 877, while part of 
their force remained in Exeter, a part retreated into 
Mercia for plunder ; and Turner says, they then de- 
throned Cleolwulf, who had himself been a cruel tyrant, 
and base plunderer of his own nation ; but Asser merely 
says, that they gave part of Mercia to Cleolwulf, and 
divided the remainder among themselves. 

This proceeding, under the guise of punishing that 
consummate scoundrel, enabled them to arrange all 
their disposable force in Mercia, and to concert the 
ensuing year's campaign. 

To counteract the operations of the Pagans, and to 
cut off their supplies, whilst in Exeter; Alfred had 
(cymbas), boats or pinnaces, (snoekke of the Norse- 
men) and (galeas) long ships (dragons of the Norse- 
men), built in the various ports throughout Wessex, in 
order that, by a naval force, he might intercept any 
approaching enemies ; and he manned them, or put 
them in the command of hired pirate-sailors, " to keep 
the way of those seas," and immediately sent them to 
watch the Pagans, who had, by his promptitude, been 
shut up and besieged in Exeter, and wherein they had 
so wintered. 



CURSORY NOTES. 343 

He had ordered his own ships, not to suffer rein- 
forcements for the enemy, as I interpret the statement 
of Asser, to pass through (parte freti vitale) the strait 
or narrow entrance of the Estuary of the Exe — (Ex- 
mouth.) 

It so happened that a fleet of one-hundred and 
twenty ships, laden with military stores, arrived for the 
assistance of their comrades ; and that, when the king's 
servants had ascertained that they were full of Pagan 
soldiers, they ardently rushed to arms and manfully 
attacked the barbarians. 

The Pagans who had been contending against, and 
had been shattered by, stormy weather, in the open 
seas, for nearly a month ; made an useless resistance, 
and their closely-packed armed bands having been 
mangled by the shock of Alfred's vessels, " all pe- 
rished alike by being submerged, in the place called 
Gnavewic. 

Turner has altogether omitted this, upon the faith 
of other authorities who have consolidated this with a 
subsequent event. — Asser, the friend of Alfred, and 
who in all probability drew this, as he certainly did 
another part of his information, from Alfred's own 
mouth, makes a statement, which is not only clear in 
itself, but highly probable. 

Alfred was desirous of cutting off supplies, both 



344 CURSORY NOTES. 

from East Anglia and from the Continent. — This Pagan 
fleet manifestly came from a distance ; for they could 
scarcely have been beating about, nearly a month, be- 
tween Poole harbour and Swanage, or even Exmouth ; 
and besides that, Asser, in the two events, which are 
described close together in his record, distinguishes the 
places by different names. 

It is not at all unlikely that the Pagans were endea- 
vouring to make the mouth of the Exe ; that they 
were intercepted, or were pursued by the blockading 
squadron; and, being impetuously rushed upon, heeled, 
and were capsized, by the convulsed motion of their 
own burthen of armed men ; for such I understand to 
be Asser's meaning. 

In this case, the whole fleet is said to have been, 
exactly one-hundred and twenty ships ; but, in the 
next, Asser expressly says that " out of the whole 
fleet," one hundred and twenty perished ; and he dis-, 
tinctly marks it as having been a separate occurrence, 
in these words. " In this same year, 877, the Pagan 
army, deserting Werham, partly on horseback, and 
partly in ships ; out of those which went by sea, one 
hundred and twenty ships were wrecked, when they 
arrived at the place called Suanavine." 

From the resemblance of the name, and from it's 
being in their track, this would seem to have occurred 
near to Swanwich, usually now called Swanage, in the 



CUBSORY NOTES. 345 

Isle of Purbeck ; and as no mention is made, by Asser, 
of their having been attacked, it is possible that, hav- 
ing been so heavily laden with military stores and men, 
as barely to swim in the comparatively smooth water of 
Poole harbour, notwithstanding it's double tides ; they 
might have gone down in no very heavy storm, when 
in the rougher water of (l the Channel," especially if 
they had also been caught in the ebb-current which sets 
from the Solent into Poole Harbour. 

I conceive Gnave-wic, or bay, to have been, Babi- 
combe-bay ; and, as in the next century, the maraud- 
ing Danes landed at Teignmouth, and ravaged the 
adjacent country, it is quite possible that it might have 
been in revenge for the loss of this fleet in that bay. 

Alfred himself pursued the equestrian army from 
Wareham, by the Roman road, until they reached 
Exeter; and, in all probability, they suffered severe 
loss in consequence of his attacks, for that there he 
exacted and received from them hostages, and bound 
them, again, by oaths quickly to depart his country. 

Having lost two fleets, and at least some three or 
four thousand men, and a vast quantity of military 
stores in them, and, finding Alfred to be so much on 
the alert, and again provided with an equestrian army ; 
the Pagans appear to have temporised, and to have 
sworn to any treaty, and to have made any promises 
which he required. 



346 CURSORY NOTES. 

These events appear to have occurred in the earlier 
part of the year 877, that is, before August. 

In August, part of the army, perhaps that part which 
had suffered in it's march from Wareham to Exeter ; 
moved from Exeter into Mercia, ostensibly to punish 
Cleohvulf, and also to comply with the condition of the 
last peace to which they had sworn ; but, really to place 
Alfred between two armies. — The remainder quitted 
Exeter in January 878 ; and it would seem that Alfred 
credulously relied upon this movement as being in full 
completion of their compact with him ; for, in this only 
way can one account for his having been unprovided 
with an armed force : — and, in addition to this easy, 
good faith on his part, it was at a season in which both 
Pagans and Christians were wont to rest, and each to 
celebrate the solemnities, and to indulge in the feast- 
ings and recreations sanctioned by their respective 
creeds. 

If there were no direct road leading from West to 
East through Somersetshire ; which seems to be hardly 
probable, seeing that there was such a road across 
North-Devon, and another from the East side of 
Somersetshire across Wiltshire ; and so on to London J 
still they must have taken to that Roman road, which, 
leading through Ilchester and Bath to Cirencester, and 
so on to Lincoln, traversed the centre of Mercia. 

This being their right road homeward, Alfred may 



CURSORY NOTES. 347 

well be excused for having suffered his noble nature to 
be deceived, by as false a race of men as it seems possi- 
ble to conceive ; in whom there was neither humanity, 
honour, nor honesty, and who had no one redeeming 
good quality, but mere brute courage. It is only mar- 
vellous, that the descendants of such men should be 
humane, and upright, and honest, and honourable. 

Turning but seven miles out of the direct road, upon 
which they were legitimately travelling in apparent 
fulfilment of their oaths; they suddenly fell upon a 
people, rendered defenceless by their own good faith, 
and took possession of the Royal town of Cippan- 
hamme, in the West of Wiltshire, and upon the East- 
ern bank of the River Avon ; and here they wintered. 

This last act of consummate treachery broke the 
spirit of the Christians, worn down and reduced as 
their slender, although brave, numbers had been by 
many years of exertion ; their own numerical strength 
continually decreasing, and that of their enemies as 
continually increasing ; and, excepting themselves, the 
whole country, Britons as well as Saxons, bowing be- 
neath the Pagan yoke. 

Their King, brave, skilful, high-spirited, and gener^ 
ous as he was; and always resolutely bearing up 
against the cruel bodily disorder which afflicted him, 
in defence of his people ; had, not unpardonably, 
allowed himself to be deceived by the perjuries of a 



348 CURSORY NOTES. 

people, whom neither oath nor pledge could possibly 
bind. 



In the deepest despair, many of the Christians, com- 
pelled by Avar, by penury, and by fear, fled beyond sea ; 
and the Pagans subjected to their dominion the greater 
part of the wretched remainder of the inhabitants of 
that region. 

Apparently the Country was totally lost. 

Where Alfred and his family were at that time does 
not appear. — Not improbably his family were at Wim- 
bourne, and he also there, still watching, and probably 
joyfully hailing the departure of the Pagans from 
Exeter, as the consummation of his generous policy. 

When he heard of their unprincipled treachery, his 
heart seems to have sunk within him. — The Country, 
and the Christian cause seemed to be doomed. — Desert- 
ed by his people, he could only flee and hide his head. 
— In Asser's words. In great tribulation, with a few 
of his nobles, and with some soldiers and vassals, he 
led a harassed life, hidden in the house of one of his 
own herdsmen, in the woody and swampy places of 
Somersetshire.— There he had nothing for subsistence, 
excepting that which he acquired by frequent stealthy, 
or open irruptions, against the Pagans, as well as 
against those abject men who had submitted to the 
Pagan domination. 



CURSORY NOTES. 349 

In the same year, 878, and therefore most probably 
in concert with Godrun and his allies : Ubbo the only 
survivor of the three original leaders, (Inguar, Halfden, 
and Hubba,) of the Pagans ; and he who had most dis- 
tinguished himself by his cruelties at the massacre in 
Peterborough, arrived from one of his devastating in- 
roads upon South-Wales, with an armament of twenty- 
three ships; he having wintered there and committed 
much slaughter among the Christians. 

It is not unlikely that he had intended to have 
landed at Bude-haven, near to Stratton in Cornwall, 
whence a Roman road traversed into and across Devon- 
shire from West to East, and probably ran in that 
direction into the road at Bath, that so he might have 
joined the main army at Chippenham. 

Perhaps, mistaking the estuary of the Taw and the 
Torridge, in Barnstaple-bay, for the harbour he had 
been directed to, Bude-haven in Widemouth bay ; or 
perhaps tempted by the opportune chance, of taking 
some vessels in that River-harbour, he rashly endea- 
voured to land, but was slain before the castle of Kyn- 
wit in North Devon, (Domnania,) along with twelve 
hundred of his followers, by Odun, Earl of Devon, and 
the King's servants ; for, in that Citadel, many of the 
King's servants, with their people, had shut themselves 
up, as in a place of refuge. 

Asser's account goes on to sav. — But when the 



350 CURSORY NOTES. 

Pagans observed that the Citadel was unprotected by 
any defences, excepting that it merely had a wall built 
after the country manner, they would not even take the 
trouble of destroying it, for that the situation of the 
place is such as to be safe from attack at all points, ex- 
cepting on the East, but began to surround it, thinking 
that those men, being straitened by the blockade, 
would be delivered into their hands by hunger and 
thirst, for there was no water near to it. It did not 
however fall out as they expected. 

By divine instigation, before the Christians would 
expose themselves wholly to such an extremity ; they, 
considering that it would be much preferable to deserve 
either victory or death, at the earliest day-break, burst 
out impetuously, fell upon the Pagans, and in the first 
onset, overthrew the greater part of the hostile army 
with it's King, a few only having escaped to their ships 
by flight: — and there they took no small spoil; amongst 
which they also captured that Standard which the 
Pagans called Reafan : — for they said that three sisters 
of Hangar and Hubba, and daughters of Lodebrock 
had woven that Standard and completely embellished 
(or embroidered) it in the space of one morning : — they 
also said, that in every engagement which that ensign 
preceded, if the victory was to be theirs, it appeared as 
if a living raven was flying in the midst of it ; but, if 
they were to be conquered, then it hung perpendicu- 
larly and immoveable. 



CURSORY NOTES. 351 

Asser, in endeavouring to trace the causes which led 
to Alfred's desperate state, remarks, that not only did 
God vouchsafe to this most vain-glorious of Kings, 
victory over his enemies and triumph over his adversa- 
ries — but in benignity, he allowed him to be vexed by 
enemies, to be afflicted by adversities, and even to be 
held up to the contempt of his own people; that he 
might know there is but one God to whom every knee 
should bow, in whose hand are the hearts of Kings, 
who puts down the powerful from the throne and exalts 
the humble ; and that God sometimes tries his faithful 
ones, when in their highest prosperity, by the scourges 
of adversity ; in order that neither should the depressed 
despair of His mercy, nor should those exult who are 
in honour; but that they should know they owe all 
things which they have to Him. 

He adds, that in the early part of his reign, when his 
subjects came to him for relief, when those who were 
oppressed by men in power implored his aid, he would 
neither listen to, nor aid, but wholly neglected them: — 
that his relative Saint Neotus, for his sins, predicted 
that the greatest adversity would befal him, but that 
Alfred cared little for his rebuke, and would not heed 
his prediction : — and, because that men must either be 
punished here or hereafter, Alfred often fell into such 
miseries, that no one of his subjects knew where he was 
or what had become of hint 

In this, his last, bitter extremity of misery and hu- 



352 CURSORY NOTES. 

miliation, he learnt the severe, but divine lesson, that 
people are not made for the support of the silly osten- 
tation, or the unfeeling luxury of kings, but that kings 
are placed and maintained by the Almighty, in their 
exalted and revered station, for the benefit, and bless- 
ing, and service of their people : and that British 
people, equally with, if not above all others, while 
they abhor, and revolt against tyrants, heartily love, 
and cheerfully support and defend good kings.— He 
now resolved to subdue his own selfishness, to forego 
his own temporary pleasure or advantage, steadily to 
discharge his kingly duties, neither to neglect, nor to 
prey upon, nor to oppress, nor to suffer his nobles, nor 
servants, to oppress, nor to prey upon his people. — He, 
nobly, perilled his life for them ; they, joyfully, pe- 
rilled their lives for him : and, in the utmost depth of 
his vilest degradation, the moment which saw him rise 
up a repentant and a patriot king, saw gather around 
him a gradually increasing, brave and indignant people, 
sternly resolved, under God's blessing, to die, or to 
redeem their country. — And both he and they, pursued 
their object faithfully, steadily, skilfully, and success- 
fully. 

Neither he nor they, afterwards forgot their recipro- 
cal duties. — He ruled humanely, considerately, and 
wisely : they obeyed gratefully, willingly, and devoted- 
ly : — and, as their conquest, by the Pagans, shewed 
the certain destruction which must attend disunion; 
the victory of the Christians over Guthrun, and espe- 



CURSORY NOTES. 353 

cially tlieir subsequent triumphs over Hastings, beauti- 
fully displayed the assured prosperity which blesses the 
union of a patriotic king and a patriotic people. 

After Easter, in the same year 878, Alfred, with a 
few of his followers built a citadel in iEthelingaeg ; 
and from that fortified post, in conjunction with his 
nobles and vassals of Somersetshire, continually, and 
indefatigably waged war against the Pagans. 

In the seventh week after Easter he rode to the stone 
iEgbryhta, (thirty miles in a straight line from Athel- 
ney), which lies in the Eastern part of Selwood forest. 

There, were assembled all those inhabitants of Somer- 
shire, Wiltshire, and Hampshire, who had not fled 
beyond sea, and who exultingly received him as one 
who had risen from the dead. — There they entrenched 
themselves for one night. — Thence, by the earliest 
dawn of the succeeding day, they marched to iEcglea, 
and there they entrenched themselves for one night. — 
Thence, also by the earliest dawn, he advanced his 
Stand ard^ to Ethandum, and in a densely-compacted, 
shield-interlocked body, they fiercely charged the 
whole Pagan army ; and, persisting long and vigorously 
in the attack, by divine aid, they at length gained the 
victory : — they overthrew the Pagans with great slaugh- 
ter, and harassed the fugitives, beating them down 
until they reached their Citadel. All that he met with 
outside the fortified Camp or Citadel, men, horses, or 

2 c 



354 CUUSOKY NOTES. 

flocks, he intercepted, instantly killing the men. He 
boldly entrenched himself before the gate, with all his 
army, and there blockaded the enemy for fourteen 
days, until the Pagans, driven to extremity by hunger, 
fear, and cold, (an interestingly corroborative circum- 
stance, for, although it was verging upon the middle of 
May, it yet was not only the last breath of " black- 
t horn-winter," but the winds, ranging over the exten- 
sive sweep of country, are always felt severely at that 
place J and terrified into desperation, earnestly begged 
for peace, upon condition that the King, should no- 
minate and accept from them as many hostages as he 
might please ; and that he should not give any hostages 
to them ; so that at length they proposed such a peace 
as had never before been made. 

Their embassy having been heard by the King ; he, 
moved by his own compassion, nominated as many hos- 
tages as he saw fit : which having been received by him, 
the Pagans forthwith swore that they would quit Wessex 
with the utmost rapidity. — Godrun their King also 
promised to become a Christian, and to accept baptism 
at the hands of Alfred. 

All which was fulfilled on either side : and, after 
seven weeks preparation, Godrun and thirty of the 
most distinguished men of his army, were baptized at 
Aire, near to iEthelingaeg ; and Alfred received God- 
run as the son of his adoption ; and the chrisming was 



CURSORY NOTES. 355 

kept for eight days, in the Royal residence of Wcedinor, 
nearly five miles distant from the present Axbridge. 

He remained twelve nights with the King, who 
munificently presented to him and to his officers many 
and splendid houses. 

In 879, Gothrun, now named Athelstan, removed 
to Cirrenceastre ; and in 880, and in the thirty-second 
year of Alfred's age, they quitted Cirencester, and 
settling in East Anglia, divided the lands amongst 
them. 



This account was thoroughly comprehensible in the 
days of Asser ; but, modern ignorance of the real 
situation of the respective places which he has named, 
has made such a tangled web of it, that the truth seems 
to be perfectly inextricable. 

The situation of iEthelingaeg, or Atheling-ce, or eye, 
appears, by something like the general consent of 
writers, to have been the modern Isle of Athelney, at 
the junction of the Tone, which runs from Wellington 
and Taunton on the West ; of the Yeo, from Yeovil 
and Ilchester on the South-east ; and of another stream 

2 c 2 



356 CUliSORY NOTES. 

from Somerton, nearly due East, which uniting, form 
the river Pedrida, or Parret. 

At that time it consisted of but, about, two acres 
of dry land, surrounded by a morass, covered with 
Alder trees; and excepting by boats, or by a bridge 
at the western end, it was quite inaccessible. 

But, where Ethandum was, is lost in the mist of 
time. 

By other authors the place is called Assandune, Ed- 
derandun, and Ethandune. — Camden, Gibson, Gough, 
Hoare, and Freeman, (in his map) fix it as at Edding- 
ton, near to Westbury, in Wiltshire ; and conceive that 
Bratton-Castle was the fortified post to which the 
Pagans fled ; and the representation of a White Horse 
on the side of the Chalk hill is considered to have been 
made in commemoration of the fight; but it unfortu- 
nately happens that, in 1742, Wise was informed that it 
was formed within then living memory. 

Milner thinks it was at Heddington, about a 
mile north of an ancient Camp upon Roundway, Bea- 
con, or Bagdon hill, and about three miles North-north- 
west of Devizes ; and that the Pagans took refuge in 
Oldbury Camp, near to which there is also a White- 
Horse; but which is certainly modern, for it is not 
only well-drawn, but, unfortunately for its antiquity, has 
a docked and nicked tail. 



CURSORY NOTES. 357 

Lysons, thinks it was at Heddington near to Hun- 
gerford in Berkshire, which is thirty-five miles from 
Brixton Deverill or iEgbryhta-stan, and therefore too far 
away for the Christian army to get fresh into the field. 

Whitaker, thinks the battle was fought at Yatton, 
five miles from Chippenham, and that the Pagans re- 
treated to a Camp in North-wood, Bury-wood, upon 
Colerne down, on the Fosse way near to Wraxhall and 
Slaughter-ford. 

If it were worth while to add to this pretty confusion, 
a claim might be put in for Edington upon the range 
of hills, five miles, nearly East, from Bridgwater, 
Somersetshire, and the retreat of the Pagans placed at 
a camp close to the Roman roadway from Exmoor 
through Bridgwater, to Portishead on the Bristol 
Channel. 

The situation of iEcglea is in just as glorious an un- 
certainty. — Claims have been set up for Leigh, near to 
"Westbury, for Highley near to Whadden, for Clee-Hill, 
near to Warminster, and for some place in Berkshire. 

Not improbably it was a patch of Oak trees, in a 
meadow or plain ; and, these having been swept away, 
it's real place will never be ascertained. 

If the situations of ancient forts and camps were to 
be taken into consideration, it would be exceedingly 



/4c4 a/i/U^j /* k /& %urr/Atr& l 4£ 



■Jte 



358 CURSORY NOTES. 

difficult to know where to stay conjecture in a County 
so thickly studded with such relics as the whole coun- 
try around Salisbury Plain has been ; and it is curious 
to observe how nearly these lie upon straight lines, 
which may often be drawn to pass through three, or 
four, and in one instance through six of them, connect- 
ing Buckland rings, Hants, with Salisbury Hill, in 
Gloucestershire. 

The place of /Egbryhta-stan is stated to have been 
in the Eastern part of Selwood forest, which stretched 
from Peonna or Penselwood, at least to the Avon, even 
if it were not joined to Melksham, Chippenham, and 
Braden Forest, and connected with the Chase at Devi- 
zes. — Selwood Forest chiefly consisted of "Willow trees. 
— Westbury appears to have been upon its Eastern 
border ; but, as all North Wilts had been thickly 
covered by trees, it is not unlikely, that the great 
valley south of Devizes was at least well sheltered ; 
and that, among the woods there might have been one, 
distinctly named vEcglea. This valley used, in bad 
weather, as Sir William Waller found it, to be " among 
the worst of ways," and in those early times might 
have been still much worse marching ground. 

It does not appear unreasonable to take it as true 
that Brixton-Deverell was the site of Ecbryht stone. 

Where was iEcglea? — Asser says it was a day's 
march distant. — Clay or Clee-hill is but four miles and 



CURSORY NOTES. 359 

a half from Brixton Deverell, and one cannot think 
that, a day's march for an army which started by day 
break in the middle of May, with above fifteen hours 
light : while it is six miles and a half from Eddington, 
to reach which, so as to surprise the Pagans, the army 
had also to start by day break. — It is also to be re- 
marked that the line of march from Clay Hill to Ed- 
dington, would have been past Bratton Castle or Camp, 
in which one cannot but suppose there must have been 
some troops, to have seen them pass close by it, and 
therefore to have given the alarm, however careless and 
secure the main body might have been. 

Milner's selection of Heddington does not appear to 
be liable to such material objections : Heddington 
is now but a small village at the foot of this western 
end of the Chalk-formation. On the northern side of 
this spur from the range of downs is Oldbury, an an- 
cient British Camp, very irregularly oval, inclosed with 
two complete lines of circumvallation home to the 
precipitous northern side of the hill, and having the 
inner vallum returned so as to flank the entrance, which 
is also protected by outworks. All is now in much 
confusion. It is made conspicuous from the high- 
road between Calne and Marlborough, by an obelisk 
lately erected by the Marquis of Lansdowne, and which 
is said to be visible from Wales. Upon the southern 
side is the enclosure called Roundway, or Oliver's 
Castle. These points are four miles and a half apart. 
From Roundway Castle the prospect towards Bath is 



360 CURSORY NOTES. 

very extensive, but shut in by the high ground of 
Salisbury Plain from Bratton Castle eastward. From 
Oldbury the panoramic view is most splendid, especially 
towards the north, west and east. — Taking the two 
points, all North Wilts is at your feet. 

Heddington is by the map, eighteen miles, in a direct 
line, from Brixton Deverill, about a mile from Round- 
way Camp, six miles from Chippenham, about half a 
mile from the Wansdyke, one mile from the Roman 
road, between Aqua3 Solis, and Cunetio (Mildenhall) 
the ancient station Verlucio being upon the road, 
at one mile and a quarter from Heddington ; — Old- 
bury Camp is three miles and a half north east of the 
latter place, and about three quarters of a mile 
north of the Roman road, upon higher ground, but 
separated from Roundway-down by the valley in which 
Heddington and Calstone lie. The ascent to Round- 
way, or Oliver's camp, is steep on the southern and 
western sides, but it is easily accessible, from the East- 
ward, in the vicinity of the present New Park, and the 
ascent to Oldbury from Cherhill on it's northern front 
is practicable with steady exertion, but very sharp. 

This to a Civilian's eye, would appear to be a very 
strong position, and one to which one might readily 
suppose the Pagan army might have moved across 
the hill-ground and the vale from Chippenham, as good 
Spring quarters, and better situate for observing any 
hostile movement, and with the lines of the Wansdyke 



CURSORY NOTES. 361 

and of the Roman road, and with the then remains of 
Verlucio and of Oldbuiy Camp to retire upon, if 
attacked on either hand, well calculated for defence ; 
and if the battle really took place here, Alfred's 
daring would be vastly enhanced by these cir- 
cumstances : — Nor is it at all improbable, that these 
Pagans, who scarcely ever moved without entrenching 
themselves, might have been posted in a really strong 
position, although in the drunken license of a time of, 
apparently, the most perfect security from an enemy 
whom they had crushed into the dust, they might have 
been very careless in guarding it. 

Taking it that iEcglea, means Oakfield or meadow, 
— as Selwood Forest consisted of Willow trees, it is not 
very likely, although not impossible, that there was a 
wood of oaks among them ; or, one might conjecture 
that Alfred traversed the country under concealment of 
the Forest, so as to get to the northward of Edding- 
ton, and thence to have pounced down upon and driven 
the Pagans back into Bratton Camp. 

Mr. Walker's hint that Alfred might have marched 
between Bratton Castle and Eddington, so as to have 
cut the enemy off from their Camp, has two difficulties 
in it's way : — first, that he would have risked placing 
himself between two fires, — and next that the Pagans 
must have cut their way through the Christians, or 
they could not have regained their Camp. 



362 CURSORY NOTES. 

Indeed there does not seem to have been any very- 
cogent reason for the Pagans to have moved their head 
quarters so far from Chippenham as to Bratton, when 
their enemy was no more. — 

An accurate, and military knowledge of the country 
could alone decide between the respective claims of 
Eddington and Heddington ; but it would seem that 
the distance of the latter place from iEgbryhta-stan 
would better accord with the marching time stated by 
Asser, than would that of Eddington, which, by the 
most direct way, does not exceed ten miles from the 
same starting point. — I am much inclined to suggest, 
that Alfred and his people, so well knowing the coun- 
try as they must have done, and especially after his 
later predatory attacks, and his espial of the Pagan 
Camp, marched from Erixton Deverill, under shelter 
of the waving ground, and of the thickets and other 
wood land, either past Warminster and between West- 
bury, Trowbridge, and Melksham on the west, and 
Devizes on the east, and so might have fallen upon Hed- 
dington from the west, or else to some point Eastward 
of Roundway, or Bagdon Hill, keeping so far away 
as to be out of sight and hearing of their opponents ; 
and having had one night's rest ; in an oak field or 
wood, at break of day might have passed over the Hill, by 
it's accessible Eastern side at New Park and a little to 
the North of Roundway Castle or Camp ; and, pene- 
trating westward, cut them off from retreating to Chip- 
penham, or even from taking post upon the ruins of 



CURSORY NOTES. 3fc>5 

Verlucio ; and then drove them from Heddington 
along the valley and past Calstone into Oldbary Castle 
or Camp, and there locked them in. — 

Seeing that Alfred's predatory attacks from Athel- 
ney were, in all probability, upon the Western side of 
the Pagan Camp, and possibly also from the South- 
ward ; he might have found them less prepared upon 
the Eastern side, when he, in disguise, examined their 
camp ; and therefore have marched so as to turn their 
position, and thus to make his sudden and daring 
attack more certain. 

It may be objected that the distance of Heddington 
from Athelney, would have been an obstacle to Alfred, 
in his exploratory visit to the Pagan Camp, but when 
it is considered that the distances from Athelney to 
Eddington or to Heddington are as thirty seven miles 
to forty-four, the additional seven miles would have 
made but little difference to so bold a hunter and 
warrior as he was. 

The commemorative White Horse upon Bratton Hill, 
as well as that upon Oldbury Hill ; and Alfred's tower 
near to the beacon of Jack's Castle, are all of compara- 
tively modern date. Neither of them can therefore affect 
the question. Nor can much reliance be placed upon 
the discovery of warlike relics, for that nearly all 
Wiltshire appears to have been sown with them so thickly 
as to set at defiance any attempt to establish the site of 



364 CURSORY NOTES. 

any particular battle by them : yet it has to be con- 
sidered that this end of the down land has at least it's 
full share of such testimonies. 



Thus terminated the Defence of Wessex, against the 
unrighteous war of conquest, waged by the Sons of 
Kagnar Lodbrock. 

The defence of England against the like pertinacious 
attacks of the bold, but unprincipled Hastings, may have 
been more glorious ; but, although it's history brings 
into prominent relief all Alfred's high qualities, and 
shews how The Patriot King was nobly rewarded in 
the unbounded attachment of his admiring people ; 
yet it does not so distinctly shew how surely prosperity 
attends the union of Prince and People ; — how, in 
God's providential ruling, adversity as certainly befals 
both King and People whenever they forget their 
bounden duties to each other : — and how prosperity as 
certainly arises from the extremest depth of misery, 
when King and People place themselves in God's hands : 
-^-and how little to be despaired of is that country, in 
which all classes unite heart and hand to guard it 
against aggression. 

Barely two acres of solid ground, in the midst of a 



CURSORY NOTES. 365 

quaking morass, held all Wessex in her utmost adver- 
sity. — From that two acres of solid ground, her chas- 
tened, her penitent, her patriotically resolved king, not 
only reconquered all that had been lost, but became 
all but Monarch of all the Southern half of Britain ; 
and, from a homeless fugitive, arose the best, the 
noblest, the most renowned, the best beloved of all 
England's kings ; revered, almost adored by his people ; 
respected and honoured by surrounding nations : — the 
Country and the King beautifully illustrating the 
wise man's observation, "righteousness exalteth a 
nation, but sin is the destruction of any people." 



Very ingenious parallels have been drawn between 
the lives of remarkable men, and a skilful writer might 
make an interesting and instructive comparison between 
Alfred, and The Man after God's own heart : due and 
reverential allowance being made for the wide differ- 
ence of situation of the one, as divinely chosen, and 
of the other, as merely selected by an earthly parent. 

Judoea had, for it's idolatry, been given into the 
hands of the surrounding Pagans, and been repeatedly 
subjected by them. 

England, either possessed in part by Pagans, or en- 



366 CURSORY NOTES. 

ervated by a lethargic and idolatrous superstition, was 
chastened by Pagan invaders. 

David the youngest son of Jesse, a youth of beauti- 
ful countenance, was, by divine selection, anointed by 
Samuel the Prophet, as the future king of Israel : the 
Jews then having a king, and that king having a Son. 
— Yet, although he became the conqueror of Goliath, 
an inmate of the Royal House, and beloved by all the 
people, and conscious of his, really, divine right to the 
throne ; he invariably, and under the most trying cir- 
cumstances never forgot his respect and allegiance to 
his King ; and never attempted to assume power, until 
that it pleased God to make his way clear, by the death 
of Saul ; and even then he lamented the death which 
opened to him the path of honour. 

Alfred, the youngest of iEthelwulfs sons, of beau- 
tiful person, was selected by his father, and was 
anointed by Leo, the head of the then corrupted, but 
Christian Church, as the future King. — Caressed by 
Kings, beloved by all, and conscious of his high dig- 
nity, he yet zealously obeyed each of his three elder 
brethren, and never attempted to assume the throne, 
until they had all been removed by death ; and even 
then reluctantly took it, until, agreeably to the laws 
of his country, he had been duly selected by the 
people. 

David was a most pious, nay an inspired man, yet 



CURSORY NOTES. 367 

sinned he most grievously in his cruelty and lust, — and 
as bitterly repented. 

Alfred was singularly pious from his very childhood, 
—yet sinned in petulance, intemperance and in cruel 
judgments, and was only saved from incontinence by 
most earnest prayer. He also bitterly repented. 

David was an inspired poet, a musician, and dancer, 
— and a consummate warrior. 

Alfred ardently loved and excelled in poetry, and 
music, and bodily exercises : — and was a skilful war- 
rior. 

David, for his grievous sins, was rebelled against by 
his son Absalom, driven from his throne, deserted by 
his people, opprobriously insulted by Shimei, and led 
a wandering life in sorrow, and in penitence. — He was 
ultimately restored to his throne, and died in honour. 

Alfred, for his sins, was deserted by his people, driven 
from his throne, fled into miserable obscurity, led a life 
of privation and hardship. — He was wonderfully re- 
stored to his dignity, and died in honour. 

David's memory was beloved, and is still revered, 
not only by his countrymen, but by all the world, as 
one of the best of the Jewish Kings. 



368 CURSOltY NOTES. 

Alfred's memory was cherished, and is still revered, 
not only by Englishmen, but by all nations which 
have heard his history, as a truly good, and truly 
patriot King ; the best of his rank. 

Neither David, nor Alfred are held up as having 
possessed superhuman perfection. Great and good as 
they both were, they still were mortal, subject to the 
infirmities and vices, and sins of men, and both were 
punished for their crimes by the same unerring divine 
providence : and both will, probabty, be honoured to 
the latest posterity of their respective nations, as en- 
samples of such Kingly virtues as but seldom bless the 
Earth. 



CHALFONT. 



Oh, have you gazed on the morning's hue ? 

Oh, have you breathed the fresh morning's dew ? 

Oh, have you listened and listened still 

As the morn-breeze swept down the crisped hill, 

Loading it's wings with the streamlet's wealth, 

Whispering of peace, of joy, of health? 

Have you e'er dwelt on the bee's sweet song, 

And watched him riot the flowers among ? 

And have you noted the insect glee, 

The bounding, the whirling revelry, 

And seen them winnow the glad sun beam, 

And dart and flash, like the diamond's gleam? 

Has e'er your eager, unsated sense, 
Drank deep of that music's eloquence, 
Until you have heard, or seemed to hear 
Legions of fairies trooping near ; 
Have seen them glance as meteors by 
Carolling their honied minstrelsy, 

2d 



370 CHALFONT. 

Have seen them couch in the dew-bent rose, 
Have seen them the lily's fair cup unclose, 
Have watched them cling to the fox-glove's stem, 
And dance on the green-sward's diadem, 
And hide and seek among dew-drops bright, 
Spangling the earth with heaven's own light ? 

Oh, have you felt from the clear, cold sky 
The thrill of the soaring lark's melody ? 
Have you mounting, mounting, seen him rise 
A spirit of joy in his native skies ? 
Oh, have you chorussed his grateful hymn ? 
Have you ever praised your God, like him ? 

And, have you fled when the fervid sun 
Has flamed, has blazed in his highest noon, 
And cooled your brow in the linden's shade, 
Drawn in the breath of the perfumed glade, 
And dreamt that the sweet-briar, flowering nigh, 
Was laden with zephyrs from Araby ? 

While the new-mown hay has wafted along 
On it's odorous gale the maiden's song, 
And the land-rail's creak, here, there, or here, 
Jarred and bewildered the wondering ear, 
And the merry chaffinch chattered with glee, 
His sharp short note from the holmen tree ? 

Oh, have you e'er, when the calm, clear even, 
Cools the wide arch of the sultry heaven, 



CHALFONT. 371 

When the bright, white fleck turns sober grey, 
When the red flush marks declining day, 
And the glow ascending higher and higher, 
Earth is roofed over with fretted fire ; 

And, athwart the glory, come streaming home 
The daw and rook from their distant roam, 
And hover, and sweep around their nest, 
And drowsily clamour themselves to rest ; 
While swift, and flitter-mouse dazzle the eye, 
And the round black dorr comes droning by ? 

Oh, have you e'er, in that witching hour 
Owned all it's blest, soul-subduing power, 
And bowed, and bent the reverent knee, 
And worshipped Heaven's sole Majesty ? 
Oh, have you e'er in that holiest mood, 
Clung to, and loved such sweet solitude, 

And watched the still, white, evening steam, 
Climb from the far down low-gurgling stream, 
Spreading it's billowy tresses chill 
Over lea, and meadow, and plain, and hill ; 
And watched until the cressets on high 
Chequered with gold the calm-sleeping sky_: 

And watched, still watched, while the placid moon 
Trod her trackless path towards night's deep noon; 
And dwelt on the ban-dog's baying howl, 
And shrunk from the hiss of the startled owl, 



372 CHALFONT. 

And trembled, dismayed, as the harsh night-jar 
Proclaimed ruin, havoc, distress, and war : 

Yet lingered, lingered, yet lingered still, 
Loving the gloom of the slumbering hill ; 
Yet lingered, lingered, yet lingered on, 
'Till each fading trace of day was gone, 
Nor until then, sought your lowly rest, 
Cradling in hope upon heaven's breast ? 

If thus you have felt, then come with me ; 
Gaze on yon high, embowering tree, 
Gaze on the spruce fir, the pine, the larch, 
Gaze on the barberry's pensile arch, 
Gaze on each leaf, each tendril, each stem, 
Gaze on the mosses which cling to them, 

Gaze, gaze with me : yet gaze silently, 
Heave not the spirit-relieving sigh, 
Speak not, and move not : I would be still, 
Would think 'till memory have had her fill, 
Would think 'till she pour her gushing tear : — 
My last, sad, step has been trodden here. 

Chalfont ! endeared by The Poet's tread, 
Along thy Mist-bourne's rush-fringed bed ; 
Thou, thou hast heard the entranced song 
Echo thy orchards, thy woods among, 
And wondered, in awe, as the deep-toned note, 
In each breath, each zephyr, each gale would float. 



CHALFONT. 373 

Thou canst glory in Milton's mighty strain, 
Such song as Earth shall not hear again ; 
And I would embalm thee while Memory 
Shall in her dark, secret chamber lie, 
And Silence and Contemplation still 
Shall walk in joy on thy breezy hill. 

I may not see thy fair charms again : 
Fettered and bound to the haunts of men, 
Linked, tightly linked to the harsh turmoil, 
The City's anxious, unceasing toil, 
I can but think of thy meads of peace, 
I can but dream of thy bowers of bliss. 

Yet can I treasure, in this chill breast, 
The pleasures which cling around thy rest : 
And whenever the breeze shall by me float, 
Whenever I hear each rustic note, 
Can close my eyes, and fly back to thee 
On the lightning wings of memory. 

I thus can again thy borders tread, 

There converse hold with the dear-loved dead ; 

There see compassion bedew her eye 

At the sacred call of misery, 

And gladly again around dispense 

The stores of her wide beneficence : 

Can think, if I hear a sheep-bell nigh, 
If a cawing rook sail slowly by, 



374 CHALFONT. 

If a garden wren before me glance, 
If the mavis' note my soul entrance, 
Can think of thee, — and the grateful tear, 
Shall roll on to Acton's honoured bier. 

The minstrel's harp may with pleasure ring, 
The minstrel band may exulting sing, 
The bard's high lay may ennoble all, 
In court of king or in baron's hall, 
But nor poet's fire, nor minstrel's art, 
Could exalt that kindness-ennobled heart. 



The tree has fallen, it's glory fled 



Man may not pray for the unconscious dead 

As it has fallen, so must it lie, 

In the bosom of lone Eternity : 

But, oh, may He who once came to save 

Man from the fiery penal grave, 

Atone for her sin, and before The Throne, 

Rejoice in a spirit for ever his own. 



THE VALEDICTION. 



Should any kind-hearted, adventurous, and persever- 
ing reader, have toiled thus far, without desiring to 
obliterate the V, and to substitute an M, for his waste 
of time : — should any one have derived, from my soli- 
tary amusement, a momentary pleasure : — should any 
one have met with a stray passage, which he may wish 
to store in memory : — but especially, should any one 
have been, though but a little, improved either in 
head, or heart : — I will not say it will sufficiently, — it 
will over-reward my labour ; for, it has already been 
sufficiently rewarded in my own incommunicable en- 
joyment : — and, if it do not cheer my downward path, 
it will at least cause one pretty flower to bloom around 
my feet. 

Hoping, that in this song-coining, I have neither 
disgraced my relatives, my friends, my fellow-citizens, 
nor my Brother Haberdashers, in good, old, citizen 
fashion. 

I bid you all, most heartily, 
Farewell, 
RICHAKD KELSEY. 



LONDON : 

Brewster and West, Printers, 
Hand Court. Dowcate. 



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